


Prodigal

by coalitiongirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/pseuds/coalitiongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After killing Angel, Buffy ran away and never returned. Now, over three years later, the next Slayer has been killed by Glory, and Buffy is needed again. But she returns to find that Sunnydale doesn't want her- especially not the witch gone off the deep end and the newly resurrected Slayer whose boytoy is the only one who seems happy to see her…</p><p>(Some pairings and characters not mentioned.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

[](http://s110.photobucket.com/albums/n93/TREBRAT/?action=view&current=Prodigalbanner-1.jpg) 

 

_Sunnydale, 1998_

It was time to go. 

She walked back to her home with leaden feet- _Not my home, can’t go back_\- the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. She’d done it. To save the world, the ultimate sacrifice, all over again. The man she loved was dead, and the world was still standing.

And no one knew.

She looked around as she headed down the street, staring at the lit houses and the people who moved around in them. They all went on with their lives, never knowing what she’d done for them, what she’d given up for them. The Slayer’s role was a secret kept for millennia. And that was why she’d been kicked out of school, was being hunted by the police, had been booted from her home…

As she walked past a cemetery, she caught sight of a vampire rising a few feet away. Preoccupied, she produced a stake and moved to dust it.

It turned to stare at her with a face she knew. There was no name that she could attach to it, no real memories of the boy whose body now faced her. He had been in her chemistry class last year, had sat two seats down. She had dropped her pencil once and he’d picked it up. Staking him should have been unpleasant, but easy. 

But not today. Not after she had thrust a sword into her lover and cast him into hell.  
_  
“I love you.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“Close your eyes.”  
_  
She was sick of the killing, sick of the Slaying. Sick of the deaths all around, all the time. Merrick. Jesse. Ford. Jenny. Kendra. Angel. _Oh, god, Angel… _

The vampire squinted at her. “So, are you going to stake me, or do I kill you?” he asked, eyeing the stake at his chest.

She thrust it forward, turning him to dust.   
_  
No more death. No more sacred calling. No more of being punished for keeping them all alive._

_I quit.   
_  
\--

It had been four months since Buffy had first run, and they were working out a system at last, Giles mused. Willow, Xander, Oz, and occasionally Cordelia were doing their best, and, on occasion, actually succeeding. But they were just children, and the Hellmouth needed a Slayer. 

He rifled through his mail absentmindedly as he called a contact in LA. “Yes, have you heard anything, Richard?” 

Richard sounded regretful. “Nothing, I’m afraid. I had record of a blond girl fighting several demons in one of the suburbs, but she vanished almost a week ago. Some of her coworkers said that she never returned to work one night, and they seemed to think that she was dead.”

Giles frowned, the pangs of fear overwhelming him. “I’ll be down there in a few hours.” He hung up the phone abruptly, breathing a secret sigh of relief at the idea of a search that didn’t involve a flight.   
_  
Let this not be her, _he prayed silently. _Let me not bring home a corpse…  
_  
He packed quickly, most of his luggage already in a bag from his last journey. This would probably be a short one, and he was hoping he could be back by tomorrow. _Hopefully, with a living Buffy in tow…_

He opened the door, his bag slung over his shoulder, and came face-to-face with Willow Rosenberg. She and her fellow three Scoobies stood nervously before him, their faces dark and conflicted. 

“What’s wrong?” Giles asked worriedly, looking from Xander to Willow.

In response, Xander stepped aside to reveal a dark-eyed, shapely brunette girl grinning up at him. “Hey,” she said, swaggering forward. “I’m Faith. Heard your Hellmouth could use a Slayer.”

Giles gaped. “Well, er…come in, please.”

He set down his bag on the table as the five children streamed in.

Somehow, he didn’t think he’d end up in LA by the end of the night…

\--

_Sunnydale, 2001_

Dawn was crying, tears pouring from her eyes and mingling with the dirt and blood on her face. “Faith, it hurts…”

Faith frowned, running her fingers down Dawn’s cheek. “I got it, D. You’re gonna be five by five, don’t worry about it.” 

A few drops of blood slipped over the edge of the tower they were huddled on, and a rapidly growing circle of light appeared in midair.

Faith glanced out at it. “Dawnie, get out of here!” 

She stared up at her sister, her eyes wide. “But it’s started!”

Faith grinned. “Chill out, D. I’ve got it covered. Now get down there!”

Dawn climbed down the tower, stumbling in her haste.

Faith eyed the portal with vague trepidation. A dragon emerged from the rift, its wings spreading as it soared upward. 

_Blood shuts the portal, right? Dawn’s blood. And she’s made from me. So…_

Faith shrugged. “What the hell.” 

And she dove into the portal, closing it as she met death headlong.

Below, Dawn sobbed. Willow and Tara stumbled toward Faith’s body, their faces disbelieving. Xander gaped, Anya clinging to him. Giles stared sightlessly at his second lost Slayer. And Spike raised his beaten and battered body to scuttle over to Dawn and hold her close.

Sunrise was approaching, and Giles bent to lift Faith’s body silently. Dawn helped Spike to shelter and sat with him, sobbing. The others followed Giles as he brought Faith to the hospital.

They knew the diagnosis already.

And while one of the Slayer’s companions feverishly searched her brain for something, _anything_ that could make it all right for them again, the Watcher pushed aside his grief and thought practically.

Sunnydale still needed a Slayer. 

It was time for Buffy to come home.


	2. Chapter 2

They met at the Magic Box late one night to discuss what could be done about the situation. 

It had been almost a week since Giles had left on some sort of confidential mission, and Anya was taking care of the shop alone. Xander and Willow came first, as Faith’s oldest and closest friends. Dawn followed with a wary Tara some twenty minutes later, the former eager and the latter cautious about what Willow was proposing. Last to arrive was Spike, just after sunset.

For a long while, the six sat quietly, reluctant to even bring up the topic at hand. Of course, Willow was the first to speak. “It’s a complicated spell, but I can handle it.”

“Magic!” Spike snorted. “Can’t solve all your problems, no matter how much you try.”

The witch tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “It hasn’t failed me yet. Not since that spell back in college. And you had no complaints about that, did you?” His only response was a half-hearted leer.

“I’m with Spike,” Xander said, joining his friend against the wall. “Fighting Glory and Adam was one thing. But resurrection? What if something goes wrong?”

Willow shook her head in disgust at the two men. “How can you say that? This is our answer. Spike and I can only hold back the demon population for so long. They know that Faith’s gone, and they’re streaming in now by the dozens, every night! We need Faith. It’s worth the risk, right?” Her eyes sought out her supporters. 

Anya shrugged. “Just make sure that I’m reimbursed for whatever you use from the shop.” At the incredulous stares of the other Scoobies, she muttered, “Fine! Half-price!”

“I’m for it,” Dawn put in, tossing a defiant glare around the room. “And Willow, if you need some extra juice, you can always use me, right? If I’m made of energy-“

She was cut off by a series of protests from almost everyone present. 

“Over my dust!” Spike snapped. “No plans that put the Little Bit in danger.”

“So better Faith than Dawn, is that what you’re saying?” Willow retorted. 

Spike straightened. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! Slayer gave her life to save Dawn’s, and there’s no way in a thousand hells that I’d let you put the Bit in danger again!” 

“Is that a threat?” Willow demanded, her eyes growing even blacker than they had been before.

Xander moved to put a hand on her shoulder, calming her down to a lighter state. “Hey, relax. No one’s threatening anyone. We’re all on the same side, remember?”

“I want to help,” Dawn said stubbornly.

“M-maybe it’s a good idea if you stayed at home while we discussed this,” Tara spoke up timidly, trying to defuse the tempers that were running high around the room.

Dawn gave her an incredulous look. “Have you _met_ my sister? I’m not exactly young and innocent here.” She looked to Willow. “Can you use me?”

Witch and vampire eyed each other warily, but the two informal leaders of the Scoobies in Faith’s absence came to grudging agreement silently. “I’ll need Tara, Spike, and Anya,” Willow said decisively. “But that should be enough energy to pull off a resurrection spell.” She opened one of the books she’d piled on the table earlier. “Tara’s white magic and my dark magic should collide to create an explosion of power strong enough to bring Faith back.” She grinned. “Easy as pie.”

Xander and Anya left for the back room, satisfied, and Willow went to take Dawn home, leaving Spike and Tara alone in the shop. 

Spike lit a cigarette. “Having any doubts?”

Tara looked down, letting her hair shield her face as she spoke. “Y-you know Willow. She’s been practicing dark magic for years. If Mr. Giles couldn’t stop her, then h-how could I?”

Spike eyed the hesitant girl. “Seems to me that you have more of a chance. True love and all that rot.” He snorted. “I used to believe in that. Then my so-called love of my life dumped me for a Chaos Demon.” At Tara’s stricken look, he hastily added, “But it’s not like that for you, love. You and the Dark Witch are forever. Just seems to me that she’s stunting your growth.”

Tara peeked up at him through a mask of honey-blonde hair. “W-Willow saved me.” It hadn’t been too long ago when she had been hidden in the background, awaiting a destiny as a prisoner to her family. Willow had been the one to see her potential and bring her into the fold, and Tara would do anything for her in return.

Spike shrugged. “Seems more like she doomed you.” He shook his head. “I remember her back when she was a sweet little thing, nervous as hell around vampires and cute as a button. But that was when…” He sighed wistfully, his eyes suddenly far away. “It was before Faith. I don’t tend to argue with her decisions, but encouraging Willow to embrace that darkness was the wrong thing to do. And you can be sure that we’ll be paying for it in time.” He laid a hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on your girl, love.”

Tara glanced up at him, troubled. Spike gave her a brief smile. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

\--  
_  
Every night for the past hundred and thirty days, she had dreamt the same dream. It didn’t matter what she tried to take beforehand, how much medication or alcohol or occasional illegal substance she consumed; she couldn’t stop the images. She suspected that a magical cure might have worked, but she was far past that._

_So every night, she watched the dark-haired girl leap off the tower, and every night, she heard her voice._

_“Get me out of here!”_

_“Hell’s better than this.”_

_“I am so damn _bored_!”_

_“Man, do I need a ride bad…”_

_She tried to ignore that last one. But the crude girl continued every time, calling her a traitor, a coward, a disgrace to her Line…_

_Sometimes, she could also see indistinct faces below the tower, faces she sometimes recognized from old memories. Faces she tried to forget with her every waking moment._

_But after each came the mockery and belittlement, and she found it easy to drive the memories out._

_And then she always woke up, gasping.  
_  
“Anne? You okay?”

Cindy. Good old reliable Cindy, who’d been rooming with her for over two years and had never pried into Anne’s past. Cindy, who’d forced Anne to admit to herself that she wasn’t taking a vacation anymore, but really leaving her old life behind. Who’d convinced her to leave Los Angeles and join her in a little town called Rileyville on the other side of the country. Who’d gotten her a job in a restaurant without ID, and helped her obtain the ID when she eventually had needed it.

And yet, Anne didn’t even know what Cindy was running from. Or even Cindy’s real name. She supposed that it was fair. After all, Cindy didn’t know her real name, either. They’d met when Cindy had gotten a job at Helen’s Kitchen, the old dive of a diner Anne had first worked at after fleeing to LA. Theirs was a friendship born out of necessity, and not one that was particularly deep. They only had one thing in common- they were both running. So the two had eventually left together when they had accumulated enough cash, and had found themselves in Pennsylvania not long afterwards. 

Anne didn’t spend much time with Cindy. The girl was too close and knew too much, even if it was only that she was running. Instead, she immersed herself in work at the restaurant, came home after Cindy had left for her (rather questionable) night job and fell asleep long before Cindy returned. She had successfully avoided contact with Cindy for almost two weeks now. Until this.

“I’m fine. Just a bad dream. Sorry if I woke you.”  
_  
“What a sad, pathetic life you lead,” the girl mocked. “And to think you used to try to make a difference. You’ve sunken so low…”  
_  
Cindy shrugged. “No worries. See you around.” She vanished back into her bedroom.

Anne sat up, breathing heavily. She needed to get out. Now.

In moments, she was dressed and wandering along an uphill path towards the quiet Rileyville downtown. She’d learned fairly quickly that she craved violence more than she ever would have imagined as a seventeen-year-old training with- _Don’t think about it¬¬!_ So she took out her anger however she could. Typically, it was a bar brawl, sometime before sunrise. The only people out for blood around then were…unusual. She refused to call them by any other name, to acknowledge their true nature. She used no weapons when she fought them, either. Which led to a lot of messy beheading. But that suited her just fine.

She slumped down at the bar, ignoring the man beside her nursing a thick, red liquid. The man recognized her and left the establishment immediately. Only the newer ones would engage her anymore, or the stupid ones. There were rarely any challenges anymore, just easy victories. She remembered a bleached-blond blur with a touch of wistfulness, then tamped it down immediately. Those damn dreams were ruining three long years of work, dredging up old nightmares…

“What’ll it be, Anne?” the bartender asked, watching mournfully as the bar emptied rapidly. Anne was bad for business, but her presence beat the alternative. The bartender had learned early on that Anne didn’t discriminate whether the slime she fought had a heartbeat or not.

She scowled at him till he brought out her usual, tossing back the liquor with practiced ease. 

The bartender thought about informing her that a man had approached him, offering him money in exchange for information about Anne. A man who had had a photograph of a teenager who looked simultaneously identical and worlds apart from his world-weary customer. A man who knew so much about Anne and was planning to retrieve her for reasons the bartender could only guess.

But if Anne was taken away, profit margins would increase significantly. The vampires would return to his little country town, and all would be well again.

He decided against it. Let Anne find out for herself.


	3. Chapter 3

“Osiris! Release her!” Willow roared, the black energy around her crackling with power and intent.

“Release her!” Tara echoed, her white magic flowing in a steady stream around her. 

The two witches’ powers met over the open casket with the body they had once known as Faith’s staring through empty sockets to the stars. Willow had originally planned to do the spell above the burial site, but Spike had reminded them that the body would awaken wherever it was originally, so the grave was opened and disrespected. Not that Spike cared about things like that, but he knew that the others were less than pleased.

“Osiris!” Willow cried, the explosion of power lighting them all up. Even Spike, with his enhanced vision, could see only her body’s skeleton, two black lights the lone indication of the witch’s eyes. “Release her!”

The casket before them shook, and the desiccated body was abruptly renewed into the dark Slayer, her eyes wide and afraid.

The magic died down, retreating into its four initiators. “Did it work?” Anya demanded, squinting at Faith.

“It worked!” Willow said excitedly. “She’s okay!”

“But will I ever play piano again?” Faith asked, grinning as she sat up.

“Faith!” Willow shrieked, launching herself at her best friend.

“Faith,” Tara murmured, awed.

“Slayer,” Spike grinned.

Faith rubbed her ears. “Man, you guys are loud!” 

“Loud?” Anya said doubtfully. “I know hell dimensions as well as any vengeance demon, and they’re not usually on the quiet side.”

“Hell? Seriously?” Faith pouted. “You guys think so little of me that you assumed I’d go to hell?”

“Oh, g-god,” Tara whispered, horrified. “Y-you were in heaven?”

Faith shrugged. “Don’t really know. But I was safe, and I was warm, and I was finished and content. I _think_ I was in heaven.”

Willow’s eyes returned to their natural green in shock. Tara was crying openly, and even Anya seemed perturbed. Spike waited. He knew Faith.

She shook her head. “And it was so. Damned. Boring! If that’s eternity, I’d rather take hell!” She grinned at their gaping mouths. “What? You thought that I’d be happy _content_? I’m Faith! I love the fight! Why couldn’t I have gone to Valhalla or something?”

“I can arrange that!” Anya said excitedly. “I know a man who-“

“Wait.” Faith held up a hand. “Where’s Dawn?”

Spike answered that one. “I asked Xander to keep her company at the house. I didn’t want her here in case things got nasty.”

“Oh, you good little vampire you,” Faith yanked him to her and gave him a rough kiss, her tongue attacking his and her teeth nipping at his lower lip to draw blood. “Things are gonna get _really_nasty.”

Spike parted from her, leering. “Didn’t mean that kind of nasty. But who am I to argue with the Slayer?” He rose, pulling her up beside him. “But Dawn’s worried. So sister first, then nastiness.”

Faith pouted. “I swear you like my sister more than me.”

Spike gave her a look. “I have very a different relationship with you than I do with her.” It was true. Since Faith and Spike had first become involved, Dawn had been a pet project of Spike’s. He’d taken her under his wing and treated her like a little sister when her real sister was too busy slaying baddies. Spike sometimes wondered why he’d been given memories of caring for Dawn for so long. He suspected that it was because he was the only one who really would. Faith tried, but she couldn’t afford to make Dawn her focus. _Though she did come through when it really mattered, on that tower,_ Spike conceded. Willow, with her damned superiority complex, barely acknowledged Dawn anymore, unless if she needed her. Tara tried, but Dawn was far too tough for her._Something about losing your mother at such a young age and traipsing through the country while slaying demons with your sister will do that._ And Anya had no interest in children, so Xander by association usually avoided Faith’s sister. Dawn was easily accepted during Scooby meetings and research sessions, but when it came to hanging out with her or “babysitting” (which they never dared to call it around her), Spike was often the only one who volunteered, and Giles was the only one they could rope into it when Spike couldn’t. But Dawn was Spike’s girl, and everyone knew it. Purely platonically, of course.

“You didn’t find someone new while I was away, did you?” Faith asked teasingly, but there was an edge to her voice. Faith didn’t like to share. He remembered with a grimace the last time he’d tried a shag while she was away. Those bruises hadn’t healed for weeks, and he was pretty sure that Harmony’s dust was still lining the floor of his DeSoto.

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of it,” he said easily. One thing about Faith- she wasn’t the kind of girl you ever had enough of. And his sexual prowess was nothing to sneer at, either. It was why they’d lasted so long- things never got boring. “So, Rupes is away on some Watcher thing tonight.” Faith and Dawn lived with Giles in a large suburban home funded by the Watcher’s Council. Of course, Faith usually spent the night at his crypt instead. Giles was far too embarrassed to be around Faith or Spike in the mornings, and even Spike had had his fill of taunting the Watcher after the first few times.

“Excellent.” Faith grinned. “My place?”

“Let’s scar Dawn for life, then,” Spike said agreeably.

And they headed out of the cemetery together, followed by their three bemused friends.

\--

Anne’s alarm went off at six o’clock AM. She was out the door and on her way to the restaurant at seven. All in all, a normal day. 

Kyra’s was a higher class establishment than most of the others in Rileyville, which was why Anne counted it as a step up from Helen’s Kitchen and why most of the businesspeople in the small town frequented it for early morning breakfast specials and doughnuts. Most days, Anne worked in the morning and the early evening, taking off for the quieter lunch shifts. The big tips came in at the busier times, and she struggled to be a model waitress so as not to lose her coveted slots.

Which was why most of the other girls didn’t like her very much. That, and her standoffish attitude. She wasn’t interested in making friends. She wasn’t interesting in making any connections in the town, so that when the inevitable happened and Anne finally either ran or gave up on life, no one would notice. 

Once, she had been the “it girl” in her high school. The center of her circle of friends. Someone who made a difference every night.

But that only ended in pain.

“What’ll it be?” she asked the young man seated at her first table of the day, mustering a smile. 

He perused the menu. “Just toast for me.” 

The British accent startled her, and she studied the man cautiously. “Is that all?”

He paused, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “And juice. Two cups, I have a friend coming.”

Anne relaxed imperceptibly. The man showed no sign of knowing who she was. _You’re being paranoid. Not every British man is a… But the tweed, the tweed… _“Thank you.” She hurried away from the table quickly, her heart pounding.

When she returned, the man’s companion had joined him, his back to her.

“Toast and juice,” she said, placing it down in front of the first man. She turned to the second. “And for you…”

Her voice trailed off, and she stared blankly at the man who faced her, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Hello, Buffy,” Rupert Giles murmured. “How are you?”

She wanted to run, to flee somewhere far away where Giles would never, ever find her again. But instead, she was rooted to the spot, torn between fear and an emotion she hadn’t felt in so long, it took her a moment to place it.  
_  
Relief.  
_  
This was it. After three years of hiding, her Watcher had come to drag her back to her duties. And strangely, she was relieved at it, suddenly longed for it with a thirst so intense that she wondered why she had never felt it before. All the time running had left her empty and alone. She never would have willingly returned, never would have been able to find the courage and purpose she had once brimmed over with to make the change back to Slayer. But Giles…he could tell her what to do and lend her his courage by forcing her home. She was ready.

So she smiled a real smile at him and took a seat. “I’ve been better.”

The other man cleared his throat, and Giles gestured to him apologetically. “I’m sorry. This is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, a former Watcher. He works as a demon hunter now. He helped me find you.”

“Oh.” Anne gave the man a cursory reassessment. _Do I know them or do I know them?_ “So…”

“So.” Giles sighed. “I’ve been searching for you for months.”

“Months?” Anne wondered._ Did no one even care that I had left?_ The thought stung more than it would have during the past few years.

“This time,” Giles amended, seeing the doubts on her face. “My earlier search was called off when the new Slayer arrived.”

_New Slayer. Of course._ Kendra had died the same day as Buffy. So Sunnydale had had a Slayer since then, too.

Giles took off his glasses and polished them absent-mindedly. “Unfortunately, Faith passed away several months ago. The newest Slayer has duties elsewhere, in the Congo. Sunnydale needs a Slayer.”

“So you just came here, expecting me to come back as a substitute Slayer?” Anne asked incredulously. “Why would I leave? I’ve got-”

“Anne!” one of the other waitresses called out. “Get your ass back into the kitchen and serve your other customers!” 

Anne rose. “Let’s go.”

Wesley stopped to leave the money on the table. And the two Brits and Buffy Summers left the restaurant without looking back.

\--

“We are now landing in Los Angeles,” the pilot’s voice announced. 

Buffy nudged her companion. “Giles, wake up.”

So far, things hadn’t gone as expected. She had been rushed to her apartment to pack up her meager belongings, then rushed to the airport to board the next flight to LA. Immediately upon boarding, Giles had fallen asleep and not woken yet. He had been reluctant to tell her much about home, only about the threats Faith had defeated.

Faith… It was clear that Giles thought very highly of her. She had defeated the mayor of Sunnydale, (who was apparently evil. Which disturbed Buffy quite a bit), stopped several apocalypses, taken down some evil government organization, and went up against a hellgod and won. The last had been at the cost of her life. She was lively and charming, and embraced her Slayer heritage with a gusto Giles had never seen before, according to the man she had once thought of as her surrogate father. Now he actually was a Slayer’s father of sorts. The Watchers Council had helped Giles gain custody over her and her sister, and they all lived together. Buffy tried not to be too jealous. She’d walked out on him, not the other way around. But hearing about this girl, the perfect Slayer, made Buffy wary. What was she coming home to? She’d barely trained in years. How could she ever measure up to the Slayer Giles had lost?

Buffy was finally able to rouse Giles as the plane landed, and there was an awkward silence between them for a while, during which they gathered their luggage and caught a cab to where Giles’ car was parked.

“This is Wesley’s office,” Giles told her, gesturing at the building in front of them. “He’s usually away on field work, but his secretary is here full time.”

“How do you know him?” Buffy asked curiously.

“He was assigned to be Faith’s Watcher, initially. But she was a bit too much for him to handle.” He smiled at the memory. “Eventually, he was manipulated by the mayor against Faith and made some grievous errors in judgment, and the Watcher’s Council saw fit to fire him and reinstate me as Faith’s Watcher. Since, Wesley has matured quite a bit. Cordelia, too.”

“Cordelia Chase?” Buffy said incredulously. “She and Wesley are…?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Giles said, pointing out his car. It was small, red and shiny, and Buffy had to stifle a laugh when she saw it. _Midlife crisis much?_ “She’s his secretary.”

“Oh.” Buffy considered the building. “Maybe I should go in and say hello.”

Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them furiously. “That would…not be advisable. She may not be very pleased to see you.”

“Oh.” Buffy felt like a fool. Of course her old friends weren’t going to be happy to see her, not after she had vanished with no real explanations and never returned. She remembered Xander and Willow wistfully, how accepting they had always been of her. It was in Cordelia’s nature to be bitchy. But she couldn’t imagine sweet Willow being more angry than happy to see her… “Right.”

Giles helped her get her things into the car. “Perhaps in time…”

“Perhaps,” Buffy echoed, climbing into the passenger seat. “So, where are we headed? I thought I’d go see my mom first, get that done immediately. It’ll be good to see her again, assuming she lets me in the house.” She resolutely pushed that last memory of her mother out of her head. She was going to be positive now if it killed her.

But Giles stopped loading the trunk and came to sit down next to her. “Buffy, there’s something you need you need to know.”

And then her world fell apart, just a little more.


	4. Chapter 4

She was numb.   
_  
“Your mother passed away last year, Buffy. It was a brain aneurysm. She went peacefully, from what I heard. I’m so sorry.”  
_  
Her mother was dead. 

And she had gone alone, without her daughter, wondering why she had never returned.  
_  
“She told me what she said to you, before you left. She didn’t mean it, was only taken aback by your revelation. She missed you very much. She would tell me how much she loved you, how precious you were to her, often. She was never the same after you left.”  
_  
Buffy had gotten out of the car as soon as they had reached Sunnydale, heading for the cemetery. She needed to be alone with her mother. 

Only once she had reached the tombstone with the words JOYCE SUMMERS emblazoned on them did she let the tears fall.

She had left her mother, just like her father before her. Joyce had never quite recovered, according to Giles.  
_  
“You have to understand, she wasn’t very pleased with me. She refused to speak with me most of the time. But I believe that she was happy.”  
_  
It had been a lie, they had both known, designed to make Buffy feel better. Instead, she felt worse. She and her mother hadn’t been close since the Slaying and secrets had begun, but to know that she was gone, alone, and cursing her daughter’s destiny for taking her from her…

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered, resting her head against the tombstone. She stared blankly at the stones resting on top of the marker. It was a religious thing. Jewish, maybe? Were they Willow’s last respects? She didn’t know if her mother had had any other friends or relationships in the past few years. _Maybe a boyfriend? _She wept again at the thought of what she’d lost.

It seemed like hours until she finally rose, distant voices forcing her to stir and wipe away her tears. She _was_ in a cemetery at the Hellmouth, and nothing that came at night was good news. She dusted herself off and headed for a nearby brush, snapping a branch off a bush to use as a stake. Anne would have just torn off the enemy’s head with brute force. But she was Buffy again.

“…_Such_ a sleaze. But Darren doesn’t care. Guys just care about getting laid.” The whiny voice of a teenager approaching didn’t sound very dangerous, but you could never be too cautious. “I swear, it’s impossible to get a hot guy in school anymore without sleeping with him!”

“You are _not _sleeping with anyone, Bit!” The growl sounded familiar, and Buffy jerked up, startled. “I’ll rip off his wrinklies before-“

“_Eeeew_, Spike!” the girl squealed, and Buffy jerked in surprise, moving to cross their path. Spike? Here? “Faith doesn’t complain when- Oh. What are you doing here at night? Are you stupid?” She tilted her head to assess Buffy. “Or a vampire?”

“This one’s human, Bit.” Spike mirrored the girl’s head-tilt. “In fact…”

“I thought we made a deal,” Buffy snapped, glaring at the vampire. “You leave Sunnydale with your ho and never come back. Get away from the girl.”

Instead of running or vamping, like Buffy had expected, Spike’s face lit up and he broke out into a wide smile. “Slayer! And here I thought it was my imagination telling me to run!” 

“Slayer?” the teen crossed her arms. “This is the other Slayer? She’s so…” She moved forward to eye Buffy. “Short.”

Buffy scowled. “Who asked you? And you _are_ aware that your boyfriend wants to suck you dry, right?”

The girl laughed. “Boyfriend? Spike’s _Faith’s_ boyfriend. Or, I should say, fuckbuddy.”

“Language, Dawn,” Spike admonished. He sighed. “Go back to the Magic Box. Tell the Scoobs we have a visitor.”

“Whatever.” The girl tossed her hair and jogged off. 

Buffy glared at Spike, then rushed forward and pinned him against a tree. “Give me a reason not to stake you now,” she grated. 

“If you’d been here for the past few years, you’d know!” Spike retorted. “M’one of the white hats now, I don’t bite people!”

“You have a soul?” Buffy asked, startled.

“Bloody- No! I don’t!” Spike said, outraged. “Just a bloody chip in my bloody head!”

“Huh?” Buffy released him, frowning. “Chip?”

“Doesn’t let me hurt anyone human,” Spike explained, dusting off his clothes. Buffy wondered if he’d changed clothes in the past three years. Probably not, from the look of things. “Was bloody useless until I realized I could hurt demons. Then things were good.”

Buffy raised her eyes. “So you expect me to believe that the Slayer let you work with her? That you _slept_ with her?” she added, remembering the teenager’s words from earlier.

Spike shrugged. “Slayer and a vampire. You and the poof weren’t exactly one of a kind.” He leered. “You must’ve been with humans since. You know that they can’t satisfy a Slayer.”

Buffy landed a punch on his nose. “Oi! Defenseless here, Slayer!”

“You’re a pig, Spike.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve got five minutes to explain.”

He grinned, unafraid. “Well, it started when Dru dumped me.”

“Dru dumped you?” Buffy smirked. “Took a hundred years, but she finally came to her senses.”

Spike gritted his teeth. “You don’t insult her.”

“Been pining after her?” Buffy sneered. “How very sad.”

“No more sad than running away after killing your boy toy and never coming back,” Spike shot back, and Buffy reeled backwards as though she’d been slapped. “Spoke to your mother that first time I came back. Dropped by a few more times. The lady was _heartbroken_.”

Buffy slapped him. “Shut _up_! You don’t get to talk about my mother.”

“Why not?” Spike demanded. “I spoke to her more than you before she died. Where the hell were you then?”

Buffy turned away, her eyes clouding up again with tears. She blinked them away and turned back to see Spike studying her with something resembling regret. “Just tell me what happened.”

Spike sighed and sat down against a marker. “Came back to kill you, mostly. Prove to Dru that my loyalty to her was still true. Saw Red and kidnapped her to do a love spell.”

“Spell?” Buffy frowned. “Wait. Willow does magic? I know she did the reensouling spell, but…”

“So it _did_ work!” Spike said with satisfaction. “We never knew, but Will was pretty sure that she had done it right…”

Buffy nodded coolly. “Yeah. Willow managed her first spell. I killed Angel. Are we done now?” The memory still hurt, but didn’t sting nearly as much as it once had. 

Spike leaned back, satisfied. “Guess so.” 

“I hate you,” Buffy spat out.

“Mutual,” Spike said with no real rancor. “Anyway, I kidnapped Red and Harris. Faith came after me, we parted on semi-okay terms. Came back the next year, got the Gem of Amarra, Faith destroyed it, then the government got me. Stuck this chip in my head.” He sighed. “Couldn’t go to anyone. So I went to Rupes and Faith. They weren’t the best captors.” He smiled wryly. “’Course, I wasn’t the best captive. Then Red did a spell and botched it up, made Faith an’ me engaged.”

“Engaged?” Buffy echoed doubtfully. “So you’re under a spell?”

“Was under a spell,” Spike corrected. “Willow undid it. But we kept up the relationship. Soon after, I figured out that I could hurt demons, so I joined the gang.” He grinned. “Firs’ teamed up with a Big Bad or two, but I got over it. Been working with Faith for the past year or so, been sleeping with her for about two years.”

“Ugh.” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “I wonder what she saw in you.”

“Sees,” Spike smirked smugly. “Your information is out of date. We resurrected her last night.”

“Resurrected?” Buffy repeated faintly. “You mean…Faith…?”

“Alive,” Spike confirmed.

“Oh, god.” Buffy sank to her knees. “I should go.”

“Go?” Spike demanded. “You’re not going anywhere!”

Buffy sighed. “You have a Slayer. I’m just…redundant.” She turned to stare at Spike. “What do you care, anyway?”

Spike shrugged sheepishly. “You keep things interesting.” He jumped up. “C’mon. We’ll go to the Magic Box, you’ll meet the Scoobies.”

“There are more?” Buffy asked dubiously, following him reluctantly. “You, the kid, Willow, Xander, Oz…?”

“No Oz. Dog-boy came and left. Same with the cheerleader.” Spike led her through the streets. “You’ll meet demon-girl, the white witch…”

“Are you capable of calling people by their real names?” Buffy asked, laughing a little reluctantly. She turned back to her mother’s grave for just a moment, promising mentally to return soon. 

Spike smirked. “Right. Misterrr Giles, Faith, Willow, Xanderrr, Dawwn, Anya, and Tarrra will all be there,” he said in an exaggerated American accent.

Buffy nudged him, smiling despite herself. “So you’re now armed with your fatal weapon of annoying me to death?” she wondered.

He grinned. “That’s the plan.”

Spike was glad to have the blonde Slayer back. Fine. He’d said it. Much as she was a pain in his ass and possibly plotting his dusty death, she was also the good one. And having her back made him wonder if she could make things right. 

Spike didn’t delude himself. He knew that Faith’s penchant for violence wasn’t standard even for a Slayer. And he couldn’t help remembering Buffy sometimes, her brightness and witty quipping wiping Faith’s dark enjoyment in killing from his head altogether. Maybe she could have stopped Willow from going overboard, made sure that Glory would never have taken Tara and driven the dark witch into the blackness that had overwhelmed her since. Maybe she could have helped Giles with his feelings of uselessness or Anya with readjusting to human life. Maybe she could have stopped Willow’s old boyfriend Riley from being killed by Adam, not that Spike cared much about that.

Then again, maybe not. But either way, Buffy was back, and Spike couldn’t stop himself from feeling just a little pleased that she’d returned, all grown up.

And damn, but she _had_ grown up. He peeked at her from the corner of his eye, taking in the gentle curves and slim frame, the pale skin, the fiery eyes…

She scowled at him. “What?”

Spike redirected his eyes forward. “So where have you been?”

“LA, then Pennsylvania,” she said curtly. “Giles came to get me earlier today.” She sighed. “I can’t believe this has all been one day.”

“It only gets worse,” Spike assured her, mentally softening at the sudden look of horror on her face. “Okay, only sometimes. And usually only on Tuesdays.”

Buffy just stared hopelessly ahead, at the Magic Box. There were raised voices coming from inside, and in the silent night, they carried clearly over to them.

“Seriously, Giles, you need to get rid of her! I don’t need some long-lost Slayer cramping my style!” Faith, shooting off her mouth. Spike sighed. Buffy didn’t need to hear this. 

“Faith, I wasn’t aware of Willow’s plans when I went to retrieve Buffy.” Giles assured her. “But this isn’t up to you. Buffy is here now, and you two will work together.”

“We don’t need _her_.” Willow, her voice cold with venom. Beside him, Buffy stiffened, recognizing the voice and hurting from it. “What’s she going to do? Run the first time she has to fight a Big Bad?”

“I don’t know this girl, but I don’t like her,” Anya declared. “She seems irresponsible. Faith and Willow and Spike can handle the Hellmouth.”

Xander was next. “How about LA? Wes and Cordy could probably use a Slayer.” He sounded less malicious than Willow, at least. Spike sighed. The sooner Buffy was accepted into the group, the sooner she could make things right again. But right now it wasn’t looking very good.

“Yes. She can stay with Cordelia,” Anya added quickly. Spike grinned. He was pretty sure that Anya was trying to protect her man. At least she’d retract the claws when she saw Buffy’s lack of interest in Harris. 

“Just get rid of her,” Willow said dismissively. “And quickly. I don’t want to have to play nice with her, Giles.”

A dry sob escaped Buffy’s mouth, and she sank to the ground. “What was I thinking?” she whispered. “How could I think that they’d forgive me?”

Damn. She’d been broken now, before she’d even tried to go in. Spike bent down next to her. “Come on, pet. It’s going to take some time, yeah, but they’ll forgive you. They’ve forgiven me worse, and I’m the Big Bad. You can do this.” Could she? Suddenly he was dubious. Sure, they’d forgiven him, but he had just attacked them as an enemy, not abandoned them as a friend. He’d hurt them physically, but rarely emotionally. But Buffy’s departure had ruined Red and Harris for a long time, and he wondered if they’d ever trust her again. 

But Buffy turned to stare up at him with wide, suddenly vulnerable trust, and Spike’s unbeating heart nearly broke at the sight of the girl who had no one to count on but her worst enemy. _Stop being such a sap!_ he reproached himself. _You don’t even get like this over Dawn! _

“Really?” she asked him shakily. “You think so?”

“I _know_ so,” he informed her, quashing his mutinous thoughts. He held out his hand to help her up. “Come on, we’ll go inside.”

He watched her steel herself, and knew that she had succeeded when she dropped her hand from his and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Not like your opinion counts for much, _vampire_.” 

And she strode toward the door and threw it open, leaving Spike behind, grinning like an idiot.

_Girl’s a bit screwed up, but she’s still the Slayer I remember. We might have a fighting chance after all._


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh. You’re here,” Willow said flatly.

Buffy forced a bright smile onto her face, turning to see her old friend. “Hey! Wi…Willow?” Gone was everything she remembered about her friend, the shy girl who shrank back when faced with too much attention. This Willow was tall, confident, cold, and exuded power like the doe-eyed girl beside her exuded sex. _Since when is Willow so…hot? _Buffy didn’t remember seeing hotness potential in her old friend, just that cuteness that had attracted Oz so much. “Wow. You look great. The black hair? Smart move.”

Willow just stared at her, her lip curling in the slightest sneer, and Buffy suddenly felt supremely stupid. “Um. So, how’ve you been these past three years?”

The girl beside Willow snorted. “_This_ is Buffy? Now I understand why Cordelia was part of the group. Where’d you slay, the mall?”

Buffy turned to her, the smile getting falser by the moment. “You must be Faith. I’m guessing you hunt vampires on street corners.”

“Hey!” Dawn charged forward. Spike appeared behind her in an instant, holding her back with an arm.

“Really not a good idea, insulting our leader, pet,” he warned Buffy, but there was mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I’m just wondering…” Willow frowned mock-thoughtfully. “What the hell are doing here? We’ve got Faith back. So shoo! Go back to wherever you’ve been until now.”

Giles held up a hand. “Willow, that’s enough. Buffy’s traveled across the country to come here and help with the slaying. Regardless of Faith’s return, we can still be welcoming.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Right.” She turned away, sitting at a table and opening a large text. “You have fun with that.”

Faith sighed. “I’m gonna skip the tearful reunion and get out of here now.” She moved to leave, and Dawn followed, tossing Buffy one last derisive glare. “Spike?” She turned to the vampire, who still leaned comfortably against the wall behind Dawn. “You coming?”

Spike shook his head. “I’m going to stick around here for a little while more.”

Faith frowned. “What?”

“I’ll meet up with you later,” he told her. “No big deal.”

But judging from the looks that everyone was giving him, it _was_ a big deal. And it had thrown everyone for a curve. Buffy wondered why.

“Faith,” Giles said quietly, shifting the focus to the other Slayer. “If I haven’t mentioned it before...I’m so glad that you’re back.” And when Faith ran to him and gave him a hug, Buffy quashed her jealousy and reminded herself that she’d given up that right. But it still hurt.

Once Faith and Dawn were gone, Giles turned to Buffy. “I will also be going now. I had thought you’d stay in Faith’s room, but I suppose we can set up the basement cot,” he said apologetically. “Would you like me to drive you home?”

Buffy shook her head. “I’m going to stick around here for a little longer.” _Maybe even get Willow to talk to me. _“Where do you live?”

Giles scribbled down the address. “I’m sure one of you can give Buffy a ride back?” He gave them all pointed looks. Willow glared back at him. The girl behind the counter looked sullen. Spike smirked.

“I remember where this is,” Buffy lied. She’d find it eventually, right? “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Of course,” Giles murmured, flustered. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise, just-“

“Thanks, Giles,” she cut him off gently.

He left with one last, worried glance around the room.

There was an awkward pause. Then Xander finally spoke from where he stood by the counter. “Hiya, Buff. Long time, no see.” Buffy almost cried when she saw an actual- real, sincere!- smile on his face.

She grinned back. “Hi, Xander.” He didn’t look so different, not like Willow. A little scruffier, a bit more Xander around the stomach area, and the goofy smile looked more mature now, but he was still Xander, and Buffy still wanted to run to him and give him a hug.

She thought twice about it when she saw the girl behind the counter affix her with a glower. Clearly, a _back off!_ warning. “So, um, you must be Tara? Anya?”

“I’m Anya,” the girl informed her. “Xander’s _fiancé_, and he’s over his crush on you, so you can stay far away from him. I’ll be watching you. When I was a _vengeance demon_,” she emphasized the term. “I saw more than a few men led astray by women like you, and I won’t let that happen to my Xander.”

“Ahn…” Xander gave her a pained look.

Buffy managed a smile, a little taken aback by Anya’s bluntness. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in Xander- not that you’re not a great catch,” she assured an uncomfortably shifting Xander. “But we were never together or anything. And it sounds like you two are pretty serious and did you say you’re a _vengeance demon_?”

“Ex-vengeance demon,” Anya corrected her.

Buffy gaped. “Demons, vampires…we really don’t discriminate anymore, do we?” Had it really been so long ago that Angel had rarely hung around with her friends because he made them nervous? And Xander, who hated vampires so much, was marrying an ex-demon?

“_We_ don’t,” Willow said coldly. “You might.”

Buffy sighed. How long was this going to last? “Willow, I know that I hurt you by leaving, but-“ She stopped at Willow’s laughter. “What?”

Willow shrugged. “Just trying to remember if you were always this self-centered.” She moved to stand in front of Buffy, her eyes glinting dangerously. “Yeah, when you left I was hurt. My role model, the girl I had respected so much for her bravery and loyalty had run off in cowardice? Everything I believed in was shattered and the person I would have spoken about it to was gone. So yeah, I was hurt.”

Buffy looked down. “Will…”

“But _then_,” Willow moved closer relentlessly, invading Buffy’s personal space and making her face her. “Faith came. And suddenly, there was this new, cool Slayer in town. And she wouldn’t run if things got bad. She never did. She supported me, helped me understand myself, and always had time for me. She encouraged me to experiment with magic some more, accepted me as a weapon instead of boring old Willow, research gal.” Willow’s voice took on an even colder note. “I didn’t have to be a sidekick anymore. I was the big gun. Hell, I resurrected someone last night! So frankly?” She spun around and headed for the exit. “I realized I didn’t need you. Or anyone. So you coming back? Really just a pain in the ass to me. We’re not going to catch up or paint each others’ nails or whatever. We’re not friends, and we haven’t been in three years. So don’t pretend like we are.” She turned to the corner of the Magic Box, where another girl had been sitting quietly. Buffy had noticed her when she had first come in, but had forgotten about her as the reunion continued. “Coming, Tara?”

The girl nodded, following Willow out, her face hidden from view by long sheets of hair.

“Night, ladies,” Spike murmured, his eyes on Tara.

“N-night,” she said shakily, giving Spike a warm smile. Buffy caught her eye for a moment, and Tara surprised her by smiling shyly back.

Xander sighed. “I’m sor-“

“Don’t apologize for Willow,” Spike said sharply. “She has the right.”

Buffy frowned at him, feeling unaccountably betrayed, and Spike shrugged unapologetically. “Well, it’s true. You did abandon them, and they’re going to be upset. They deserve it, and so do you.” He turned to Xander. “Come on, Harris, don’t tell me you’re not even a little upset.”

Xander sighed. “I was. But I got over it.” He looked away. “It was my fault,” he mumbled, too low for humans to pick up. So, of course, the Slayer and vampire both picked it up.

“Your fault?” Buffy asked disbelievingly. “How is it your fault?”

“I lied.” Xander’s hands were twitching on either side of him. “When I saw you, before you fought Angelus… Willow wanted me to tell you about the reensouling spell. But I wanted him to die, so much that I didn’t tell you, and…”

She managed a weak smile. “Yeah, I figured that out when I killed…when I killed him. But you were right.” It hurt to admit, now that the old memories of their last argument were so raw in her mind again. “If I had known that he could have been resouled, I wouldn’t have fought at my best. And he would have won. Acathla would have awakened, and we’d all be dead.”

“So I saved the world?” Xander asked hopefully. “Can I add that to my stats?”

“I think it’s the Slayer’s point,” Spike observed. “And have you really been counting?”

Xander held up a finger. “The Master. One. The Mayor’s Ascension. Two. That time with the Hellmouth after graduation. Three. I count Adam, because that got really intense and mystical and stuff. Four. Glory. Five. I helped with all of those.”

“You’re a regular hero,” Spike drawled.

“Can we go now?” Anya demanded. “I want to have sex here, but since you people won’t leave, I’ll settle for home. Xander?”

Xander gave them an apologetic look. “Sorry, guys.” Impulsively, he came over to Buffy and pulled her into a hug. “Welcome home, Buffy.”

She started to settle into his embrace, but he was already pulling away, and Anya was looking tense. “Thanks, Xander,” she murmured.

Then he was gone, Anya calling to Spike to lock up as they left.

Buffy sagged against the wall. “Well. That went well.”

Spike shrugged. “Went better than I thought.”

Buffy gave him a dirty look. “What happened to ‘you can do this’ and ‘they’ll forgive you’?”

Spike smirked. “I lied.” He rubbed his head. “Actually, Harris surprised me. I didn’t even know that he was still feeling guilty about that. Everyone else was about what I expected.”

Buffy sighed. “I don’t get it. You and Xander are buddies? He _hated_ Angel. He was never part of the group. And now you, and Anya…”

“Things changed.” Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “When Harris objected to my relationship with Faith, she laughed him out of the house. We didn’t actually start getting along until last year. The witches and I always got along, and Rupes gave up on fighting with me when he realized that Faith wasn’t going to put up with him staking me. Worked out well. Then last year, I guess everyone just started counting on me for everything. When Faith was gone, I took care of Dawn, kept everyone out of trouble. ‘Cept Willow,” he added as an afterthought. “She’s always in trouble.”

Buffy snatched the cigarette from his mouth and put it out a stomp. “If I had brought Angelus to meet everyone…”

“I’m not Angelus. If Angelus had gotten a chip, he’d have had a vampire army destroy everyone, and probably fucked with your minds some more. I came to the Slayer for help.”

“Why?” Buffy wondered.

“Why what?” Spike asked. “Why was he a sodding bastard? Why does everyone accept me? Why am I here when I could be getting laid?”

“All of them.” Buffy turned to look at him. “But mostly that last one.”

Spike barked out a short laugh. “I wish I knew. Come on, I’ll show you where you live.”

He locked up quickly, and Buffy leaned against the wall outside, watching him.

“What?” he demanded curiously.

“If you had told me, a day ago, that the only person I’d feel comfortable with in Sunnydale was William the Bloody, I’d have laughed you out of Pennsylvania.” Buffy rubbed her head. “It’s so absurd.”

“Are you saying you feel comfortable around me?” Spike scowled. “I’m evil! The Big Bad!”

“Big Bad who’s sleeping with the Slayer?” Buffy challenged. “More like the Big Bad wannabe.”

“Take that back!” Spike feinted a punch, and Buffy twisted him down onto his back, landing on top of him with a hand at his heart.

“Game over,” she murmured, looking down at him.

He smiled up at her. “Chip, remember?” He reached a hand out to the hair falling over her face. “Can’t hurt you.”

“Right. I knew that.” She bent closer to him, her eyes fluttering closed.

And then he retracted his hand, and slid out from under her to jump up. “Let’s get back to Giles’s.”

Buffy took his proffered hand. _Spike? What were you thinking?_ she chastised herself.

They walked in comfortable silence toward the house. “Wait,” Buffy said suddenly, gesturing toward Revello Drive. “Can I just…?”

“Sure.” He followed her toward 1630. Buffy stared into the empty house, wondering.

“No one lives here,” she whispered.

Spike shook his head. “I think your mum arranged for it to be sold. But real estate isn’t very lucrative in Sunnydale. The mortality rate alone keeps people away.”

“So…is it still my house?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to talk to your mum’s lawyer. I’m sure she left you something.”

They stood together on the front lawn, paying silent respects to the woman Buffy had left behind.

“Your mum was great,” Spike said finally. “Always had a cuppa for me. Blamed Rupes for you going away, but never blamed me. She took care of me when I was down a few times, listened to my ranting about Dru…”

Buffy laughed a little. “Beats ‘get the hell away from my daughter,’ huh?”

When they finally got to Giles’s house, the basement cot was made up, a small dresser had been emptied, and Buffy’s luggage was sitting on the bed. Giles was nowhere to be found, Dawn was asleep, and Faith had written Spike a curt message that she was out patrolling and she’d see him tomorrow.

“Sorry I got you in trouble,” Buffy said, handing him back the note.

Spike shrugged, unworried. “It’s fine. I’ll go find her now and…make her forget that she was mad at me.” He curled his tongue in front of his teeth in a leer.

Buffy shoved him, grinning. “You’re a pig.”

“Oink, oink,” he laughed. He patted her shoulder affectionately. “I’ll see you around. Try not to slay any of my friends.”

Buffy unpacked her clothes, still smiling from before Spike’s departure. _What did they all see in him? I think I’m starting to understand._


	6. Chapter 6

“Morning, Dawn,” Buffy said pleasantly, holding out a pan. “Pancakes?”

Dawn tossed her hair, hitting Buffy with the long strands on her way to the fridge. She pulled out a muffin and put it in the microwave, making a point of ignoring the older girl.

Buffy sighed. Okay, so far her big “win Team Faith over with her awesome cooking skills!” plan wasn’t looking good. Maybe Faith would want some…

Giles looked up from the table. “You’re running late, Dawn,” he said with disapproval muted by the pancake in his mouth. 

Dawn shrugged. “So sue me. I was up late celebrating my sister’s miraculous rebirth.”

Buffy grinned. _Only in Sunnydale would they accept that as a valid excuse…_

Giles frowned. “And yesterday?”

“Up late listening to my sister and her boyfriend celebrating,” Dawn said dryly. “Sucks to be me.”

“Well, I can drive you to school if you need a ride. The principal has already spoken to me once this month,” Giles informed her.

“Snyder still ragging on everyone?” Buffy asked. _Bonding over hating the Sunnydale High faculty. There’s an idea._

But Dawn stared coolly at her. “_Principal_ Snyder was eaten by the mayor when Faith was a senior,” she informed Buffy.

“Oh.” Buffy stopped. “Wait. Did you say _eaten_?”

“One of the few casualties at graduation,” Giles offered. 

“Ah.” Buffy shook his head. “What is it with Sunnydale High principals being eaten? First Flutie, then Snyder…though I bet no one mourned _him_.”

“Buffy!” Giles said reprovingly. Buffy gave him a look. He cut another piece of pancake. “No, not really.”

“Anyway, I was thinking I could get a job!” Buffy said brightly. “Maybe another restaurant, like in Rileyville…”

But Giles was shaking his head. “You used a different ID there, correct?”

She frowned. “So… What? It doesn’t matter as job experience?”

“I suppose you can try,” Giles said doubtfully. “Perhaps use your full name, so if potential employers call for references, your previous employers may recognize you.”

“Plus, the whole fact that I walked out and never came back might work against me,” Buffy pointed out.

“Yes, there’s also that.” Giles stood. “It’s time, Dawn.”

She sighed expansively and headed for the door.

“Where’s Faith?” Buffy asked Giles. 

“She sleeps late. Maybe you two can spar when she wakes up?” Giles said hopefully.

“Yeah. Because Faith would love the idea of you sanctioning her beating the crap out of Blondie,” Dawn snickered.

“Maybe I’d beat the crap out of her!” Buffy called after her.

_Or maybe I’d just try to give her a pancake_, she thought dejectedly, turning off the flame. Time to look at Wanted ads.

\--

“Get the hell out of my kitchen,” Faith said, rubbing her eyes blearily. 

“Good…afternoon, Faith.” Buffy managed a smile. It was painful to be this cheery.

“Get out of my way.” Faith moved past Buffy’s chair with extra force, shoving the chair to the side and jamming Buffy’s leg against the wall. Buffy jerked it back to its position, slamming it into Faith. Faith glared at Buffy. Buffy stared back silently. With Willow and Xander, she’d walk on eggshells out of guilt. With Faith, she had no such compunction.

Faith just gritted her teeth and went to the fridge. Buffy went back to padding her resume. _Not bad for a high school dropout_, she thought with pride, scanning what she’d written.

“They won’t forgive you, you know,” Faith said suddenly, taking the seat opposite Buffy’s.

“Huh?”

“Xander, maybe. But I was there to pick up the pieces after you ran off. Willow’s not gonna forgive you anytime soon.” Faith bit into her slice of pizza. “You’re not one of the group anymore. While you were out living the carefree life, they were fighting for their survival. Stuff like that brings people together. And phases other people out.”

Buffy shrugged. “Give me time.” She wasn’t going to let Faith get to her.

Faith smirked. “You’re a damn coward.”

“So you’ve said.” Buffy leaned back against her chair, tapping her pencil against the table irritably.

Faith’s brow creased. “Huh. So you heard that.”

“You kept me entertained every night all summer,” Buffy said flippantly, then winced at Faith’s snort. “Not like that and you know it!”

“Aw, B, if you want me so much, all you need to do is ask.” Faith aimed carefully and tossed the pizza crust over Buffy’s head and into the garbage. “Course, I don’t do spineless Slayers who can’t handle their duty.”

Buffy gritted her teeth. “Try killing your lover and getting kicked out of your house and then see if you don’t need to leave town for a while.”

Faith stood up, her eyes glinting dangerously. “I don’t ditch my friends.” She turned to leave. “This town, and maybe the whole world, would be gone if you hadn’t died that one time and made me Slayer. Just something to think about.”

She slammed the front door moments later. And Buffy thought about it.

\--

Later that night, she headed out to patrol, at Giles’s suggestion. “You might run into Faith and Spike. It’ll be good for you three to grow accustomed to fighting together.”

Buffy was pretty sure that Faith wasn’t interested in fighting with her, and she _knew_ that she didn’t want to fight with Faith. Except for in maybe the hair pulling and nose breaking kind of way. But she was trying to play nice for Giles’s sake (in front of Giles, anyway), so she left for the closest graveyard.

A scream brought her running toward the east end of the cemetery, just in time to see a young couple being backed against a crypt by one rather large vampire. 

Buffy grinned. “I don’t think they seem interested in a three-way. Even if it’s just a little necking.”

The vampire scowled at her. “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t they teach you anything in vamp school? The word Slayer ring a bell?” Buffy produced a stake from her sleeve. 

“The Slayer’s a brunette,” the vamp smirked, lumbering toward her. “But you do look tastier than those two. Wannabe Slayer for breakfast sounds _delicious_.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Buffy somersaulted in midair, kicking out at his jutting chin and knocking his head back. He recovered quickly, swinging his arms towards her clumsily, and Buffy ducked, kneed him hard enough in the stomach that he tripped backwards over the tombstone behind him, and sent him crashing down with his back on the ground. “Tempting as it is, I’m more of a dinner girl myself.” Stake in, dust out. And the vampire was gone.

Buffy turned to the teenagers clinging to each other. “Get out of here.” They ran.

She felt an unfamiliar glow in her chest, and it took a few minutes before she realized what it was. Back in Rileyville, she had rarely fought off demons when they were attacking humans. And saving lives like she just had…it felt _good_. 

_This is what being a Slayer is about. This is what I’ve been missing._

“Just what I needed to make my night complete!” Faith said sarcastically. “B in my patrol route. The one demon I can’t kill.”

“Thought that was me, love,” Spike said, coming up from behind her. He smiled at Buffy, and she felt an answering warmth rise within her body. “Evening, pet.”

“Hey.” She smiled back, uncaring of the way that Faith’s eyes narrowed and moved from vampire to Slayer in sudden suspicion.

“Gotten any slaying done yet?” 

Buffy nodded at the dusty ground in front of her. “Just one. But he was really ugly.”

“Counts as two, then,” Spike quipped, grinning. “You gonna join us?”

“Sure.” Buffy stepped forward, but Faith held up a hand.

“You’re not coming with us,” she said in a low voice. “It’s bad enough that you’re _living_ with me. I’m not going to patrol with you, too. Sunnydale’s got a Slayer already. We don’t need you.”

It was true, and it hurt, and suddenly, Buffy just didn’t want to deal with it anymore. So she spun around and headed away, far from Faith and the cemetery and everything that was wrong these days.

It was time to escape from her troubles.

\--

“That’s right, scamper! It’s what you do best!” Faith shouted after Buffy.

Spike frowned at her. “Was that really necessary? The girl’s in pieces as it is. No need to make it worse.”

Faith scowled at him. “Oh, do you think I’m stupid? Like I don’t see your little lovey-dovey oh-she’s-so-hot-and-vulnerable-I-think-it’s-time-to-fuck-a-new-Slayer eyes?” She shoved him hard, and he staggered backwards. “Stop trying to make things good for her. You’re on _my_ side, remember?”

“This isn’t about sides,” Spike said irritably. “We’re all fighting on the same side, and if you’re going to get all high school political then I really don’t want to be around for the fallout.” He turned to go.

“Spike!” Faith pulled him back around to face her. “Don’t you dare.” Despite her bravado, there was a pleading in her voice, a vulnerability that he’d never heard before. It worried him more than anything else that had happened lately. Faith was always so strong. And if she broke…

He sighed. “I’m just gonna go to Willy’s for a bit. I’ll meet you at my crypt after patrolling.”

Faith grinned, the weakness gone. “See you then.” And she slinked forward, yanked down his pants, and gave him a mind-blowing orgasm that left his legs shaky and weak. “Later.” And she was off.

Spike finally managed to stand up normally and headed for the bar. He wondered where Buffy had gone. _Probably back to the house. S’not like she’s going to run again… _Or would she?

Suddenly worried, he turned and hurried back in the opposite direction to Giles’s.

Dawn was home. “Spike!” She threw her hands around him. “Aren’t you supposed to be patrolling now?” 

Spike shook his head. “Nah, I’m off to Willy’s. Just thought I’d stop by and check on your visitor.”

Dawn wrinkled her nose. “Why would you do that? She’s annoying. And weird. And tries way too hard to make friends with me.”

Spike stifled a laugh at the image of Buffy trying to befriend a stubborn Dawn. People had killed themselves over lesser things. “Just want to say hello. She here?”

Dawn shrugged. “You can check.”

He climbed down the stairs to the basement, smiling at Buffy’s room. She’d tried to make it a little homier, draping some colorful cloths over the dresser and putting up a few pictures that she must have had with her from before she’d first left Sunnydale. It didn’t really help much; the basement still looked glum, but it did seem a little brighter. 

“Buffy?” But she didn’t seem to be around, and her things were still unpacked. Spike noted with relief that Buffy’s suitcase was still there, open and empty at the foot of the bed. 

If she hadn’t tried to run, she was probably okay. Convinced, Spike headed back on his path to Willy’s. 

The bar sounded louder than usual. Spike could hear raucous laughter from several blocks away, and he quickened his pace. _Wonder who’s in there. A new Big Bad, maybe? We’re due for one sometime soon._

But it wasn’t a Big Bad at all, he discovered when he entered the bar. It was a very drunk Buffy who was the center of attention at Willy’s.

“And now I kill thingsh again, shyeah! If _F_ would let me do my job,” she moaned to a large Barakh’nar demon that sat beside her, handing her a bottle whenever she stopped talking and guffawing loudly with his friends.

“Tell us about your trip again!” a vampire chimed in. “Show us how you got here!”

Buffy rose unsteadily onto her chair and spread her arms out wide. “I flew on a plane!” she announced, rocking back and forth. She tripped over her own feet and started to topple to the ground, and Spike moved to catch her before she hit the ground.

She gazed up at him through woozy eyes. “Look, it’sh Shpike! He got way hotter shince I left. Why didn’t I notish that you were thish gorgeoush back then?” She frowned. “Maybe it wash the wheelchair.”

“Show’s over!” Spike announced, helping Buffy to her feet and glaring at the surrounding demons. 

She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Comfy.” 

“Slayer-slut,” a scaly little demon near the door muttered.

Spike heard. He set Buffy down near the door. “Just a minute, pet.” Then he tore off the demon’s head, ignoring Willy’s nervous interjections, and swept off with Buffy again.

She clung to him as they headed back to the house, teetering off a few times to throw up on the curb. Spike was thankful that at least she’d missed him, mostly, and only his shoes had a little vomit on them. 

They finally reached home, and Spike lifted her up into his arms to climb up the stairs into the house, knowing that Buffy couldn’t handle steps in her current condition. She fell asleep instantly, and Spike prayed to all deities in hell that Faith wasn’t home to see them.

His prayers were answered when Giles opened the door. He raised an eyebrow at the lightly snoring Slayer.

“She’s adjusting,” Spike said apologetically. 

“I see.” There was a hint of disapproval in his voice. “And Faith?”

Spike shrugged nonchalantly. “Still patrolling. I’ll meet her later.” Why did all the Scoobies try to keep him on a leash? If he ever got the chip out… Okay, he’d probably just bitch about it and maybe smack Harris upside the head once or twice. But still! He was his own man, and still evil, and…okay, not evil, really, but he was perfectly capable of making his own decisions! “I’m going to take the Slayer downstairs.”

Giles nodded, his expression still concerned. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is,” Spike said firmly. 

Buffy awakened as he climbed down the stairs, smiling sleepily up at him. “Why are you carrying me?”

Spike set her down on her bed. “Pushing you down the stairs was too noisy,” he stated matter-of-factly.

She giggled, a girlish sound that he didn’t remember hearing before. “Why is it so easy to be around you?” she wondered, pulling her shirt off and searching for her pajamas. 

Spike watched her unashamedly, letting his eyes run up and down her mostly unclothed body with unconcealed lust. “Suppose because you know how you feel about me. You’ve always hated me, and now you’re confused about which of your friends you might hate now.” 

“Not hate,” Buffy said dreamily, finding it too difficult to find her pajamas and curling up on the bed in her underwear. “Not you.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell back asleep. 

Spike wrapped her securely in her blanket. “Goodnight,” he whispered, impulsively brushing his lips against her forehead before leaving to go find Faith.

Buffy smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Buffy recovered from her hangover around noon, and headed to Crawford Street at one o’clock.

The mansion hadn’t changed at all, she realized with a frown. Dru’s dresses still littered one room, and the next one over was still filled with chains, blades, and various torture devices. A dusty wheelchair remained where Spike had abandoned it during their first collaboration. Acathla was the only thing that was different. It had been shattered into chunks of stone that lay in a dusty heap in front of where she stood. Giles must have taken care of it during the years following Angel’s demise.

Buffy stared blankly at the spot where, years before, she’d been forced to kill her lover to save the world. This should have been a deeply emotional moment for her. She should be crying, or pensive, or even just regretful. Instead, she felt nothing.

She tried to recall his smile, his kiss, the way she’d felt around him, but no memories brought forth the emotions she was missing. What was wrong with her?

_Maybe I’ve just moved on_, she reflected. 

And then she mourned how much she’d given up because of a man she didn’t miss.

_That_ made her want to cry.

But she didn’t. She was a Slayer and a pariah. She couldn’t waste any more time feeling sorry for herself, not when she could be rebuilding the life she’d lost. 

_Get a grip, Buffy. You’re better than this._ Her inner voice was sounding remarkably like Spike these days. She grinned. _There_ was a nice byproduct of her departure. If Spike had come to her door begging sanctuary, she probably would have pushed him back into the sunshine. And a relationship with him? She would have died first.

But somehow, he’d insinuated himself into Faith’s group. He was more accepted than she was. And when they weren’t on opposite ends of Mr. Pointy, Buffy found that she actually liked him, more than she liked any of her friends these days. He’d been good to her, too, for some unfathomable reason. Even taken her home the night before. She flushed at the memory of how drunk she’d been, and smiled at the memory of him tucking her into bed.  
_  
I really picked the wrong vampire,_ she thought wryly. _Angel loses his soul and tries to destroy me. Spike doesn’t have a soul to begin with and still ends up taking care of me. Lucky Faith._

She froze. _I did NOT just think that. No vampires. Buffy and vampires are very not mixy._

Oh, who was she kidding?

_Stupid Faith has all the luck._

\--

Giles frowned. “Higher kicks, Buffy. And you’re dropping your shoulder.”

She sighed and tried again. “I’ve really been using brute force most of the time these past few years. I’m totally out of shape.”

He nodded. “I’m afraid I have to agree. At your current level of skill, not only could Faith defeat you easily, most of the stronger local vampires and demons could, as well.”

“Great.” She slumped. “Giles, why am I even bothering? Sunnydale has a Slayer. I don’t need to be here now. No one wants me here, and clearly, no one needs me, either.”

Giles stopped, his eyes filling with compassion. “I’m sorry that the others have been…less than welcoming. But that’s no excuse to feel sorry for yourself.” 

Buffy’s hands clenched into fists. “Great pep talk, Giles. I feel better already.”

Giles shook his head, exasperated. “For god’s sake, Buffy, stop dwelling on what could have been and focus on what’s to come! Faith’s an excellent Slayer, yes. But she, in the past three years, faced very few foes that were anywhere near as difficult to defeat as Angelus or the Master. Glory alone was more dangerous, and Faith died during the battle!” He set down the punching gloves he’d been wearing. “You have the potential of rising above Faith. You once were at a level where you may have been able to defeat Faith. I am certain that had you both been training at an equal rate, you’d be far beyond her now. So instead of bemoaning your current fate, begin training again so that you can be a help to Faith, rather than a hindrance!”

Buffy gaped at him. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I was too harsh.”

“No, you were right,” she said reluctantly. “You really think that I’m better than Faith?”

“Well, I am biased,” he noted, smiling fondly at her. “You were always my Slayer. I was reassigned to Faith after Wesley’s disastrous experience, and she’s certainly someone about whom I care very much, but you…you were a daughter to me.”

Buffy fought back the emotions that were suddenly threatening to break through. 

“Some Watchers consider their Slayers pupils. I was far too close to you,” Giles continued. “I couldn’t be dispassionate when you left. I searched and searched for you, with no luck. And then Faith came…

“Willow and Xander accepted her almost immediately, charmed, I suppose, by her attitude. I wasn’t nearly as satisfied.” He smiled wryly. “I saw her as a poor replacement for _my_ Slayer. So I observed her with a critical eye that first year, and I saw some things that were overlooked by her friends and Watcher.”

He sat heavily, and Buffy joined him on the bench, marveling at how much the taciturn Watcher was sharing.

“There are things you should know about Faith,” Giles said finally. “Because you’re one of the only others who is her equal.”

“There’s Spike,” Buffy objected.

“And Willow,” Giles agreed. 

“Willow?” Buffy asked dubiously.

“Willow is stronger than all of you,” Giles informed her. “But also fiercely loyal to Faith. If I said these things about Faith to her, she’d view _me_ as the enemy, not Faith.”

“Whoa, rewind and pause.” Buffy held up a hand. “So now Faith is the enemy?”

Giles shook his head. “Not an enemy. But potentially…” He sighed. “Faith is unstable. When she first came to Sunnydale, she was fleeing the vampire that had killed her Watcher. She didn’t tell any of us this until Cordelia was nearly killed. On several occasions, I observed her taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in destroying her opponents. That bloodlust finally came to a head when she- we believe accidentally- killed a man.”

Buffy gasped. “No.”

“I’m afraid so.” Giles stared at his knees. “You must understand, accidents do happen. Slayers have killed in the past without being labeled rogue. The Council copes with it, and the Slayer is punished. But Faith hid the kill from us. There was no proof that she committed the crime, other than the testimony of a vampire that Wesley staked.”

“Why not?” Buffy asked. “I mean, if she was dangerous…”

“Wesley was afraid.” Giles shook his head. “He’d been Faith’s Watcher for months then, long enough to connect with her and adjust to her…unusual temperament. And he was very foolish back then. He was afraid of the disgrace that would follow an error that grave. So he chose to conceal his Slayer’s crime from everyone. He only told me this past summer, after her death. No one else knows.”

He turned to face Buffy, his expression grave. “Faith has never since shown any sign of going over that precipice. But she’s never openly shown remorse, and she still displays that reckless, bloodthirsty behavior that caused the accident from time to time. Her friends and sister tend to overlook it, or assume it to be natural to a Slayer. But those of us who are familiar with Slayers, that is, you, Spike, and I, see the dangerous road that Faith is travelling. We trust her to be strong and good because she’s never given us any reason to doubt her. But we must be aware that Faith is vulnerable to this instability. And I’d feel much more comfortable if you were there to reign her in.”

Buffy was only able to nod, at a loss for words.

\--

She trained with renewed vigor after that, determined to fight harder for both her own sake and Giles’s. Finally, Giles begged exhaustion and left her alone to self-train.

After another hour of reviewing martial arts routines, Buffy finally entered the main room of the Magic Box.

“Good, you’re done,” Anya said briskly. “The banging was distressing some of the customers and making them consider buying their wares elsewhere. Fortunately, we’re the only magic shop in the area.”

“Sorry?” Buffy ventured.

“Oh, don’t bother with that.” Anya waved a hand. “The two of us didn’t know you beforehand, so we never suffered from the hurt and betrayal that’s been building up in Willow and Xander all these years, nor do we particularly care about suddenly being second fiddle to a new Slayer, like Faith. So we don’t hate you yet!” she finished cheerfully.

“Oh. Um…thanks, I think,” Buffy said dazedly. “Who’s we?”

Anya nodded to the research table and Buffy blinked. Oh. Right. Willow’s friend. Yet again, she’d managed to fade into the scenery, as though she’d never been noticed and she knew that she wouldn’t be now.

But she’d smiled at her on her way out the other day, Buffy remembered, heartened. So she hastened over to the table and sat down across from the girl. “Hi! Tyra, right?”

The girl smiled awkwardly at her. “T-T-Tara. I-I’m Tara.”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Buffy said apologetically.

“N-no, i-it’s okay,” Tara said quickly. “Y-you had a l-lot on your mind that n-night.”

Buffy nodded ruefully. “Still, though, I should have remembered your name. I mean, I’d like us to be friends, despite the whole your-best-friend-hating-me thing.”

“Girlfriend, actually,” Anya put in from behind the counter. “Yep, Willow’s gay. Bet you didn’t see that one coming.”

“Gay?” Buffy repeated, astonished. “You’re kidding, right? I mean Will? She and Oz were…” She shook her head wonderingly. “Wow. Really?”

For an instant, there was a very sly spark in Tara’s eye. “I-I can assure y-you that she’s m-most definitely gay.”

Buffy laughed delightedly at the timid girl’s joke. “So, um, how did this happen? I mean, she was straight city when I left. Did she just meet you and say, hey! Gay!”

Tara grinned. “K-Kinda, actually. W-We just practiced magic t-together a lot, and I-I guess feelings developed. It was a b-bummer for her boyfriend, though.”

“Oh, no!” Buffy had liked Oz, what little she knew him. “Poor Oz!”

“N-no.” Tara shook her head. “Oz broke up with her at the beginning of college. H-he had to learn to control the werewolf. Then she dated R-Riley Finn.”

“We didn’t like him,” Anya informed them. “He was boring. And anti-demon. We had to hold Scoobie meetings at Giles’s to hide Spike from him. We called him Captain Cardboard.”

“He was part of the Initiative. Did Giles t-tell you about them?” Tara asked.

Buffy nodded. “Kind of like a massive Slayer-wannabe operation? Secretly evil?”

“Right. But when he found out about the evil part, he left them. A few weeks later, we were at a party a-a-a-a-and…” Tara blushed beet red.

“There was a sex thing going on, Willow and Tara got caught up in it and spell many hours giving each other pleasurable orgasms,” Anya put in, losing patience with Tara’s stutter. “Riley witnessed the end of the sexathon.”

“Oh. Wow. Poor guy,” Buffy said sympathetically. Remembering her audience, she put in quickly “But good for you two!”

Tara was still scarlet with embarrassment. “R-Riley w-was great. He still helped with the Initiative problem, and even fought against Adam with us… But Adam killed him during the fight.” She looked down.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said softly.

“I’m not,” Anya announced from where she was now inspecting the shelves. She made a noise of dissatisfaction. “I’m going to the basement to restock the crystal balls. Make sure that the customers can give us money.” She disappeared down a staircase Buffy hadn’t noticed before.

“That means watch the shop,” Tara said quietly, grinning.

“Anya’s definitely a character,” Buffy observed. “I wonder if it’s the whole ex-demon thing.”

Tara shook her head. “Her troll ex-boyfriend says that she was like that even when she was human the first time around.”

Buffy snickered. “I can imagine it now. She comes home one day and says, Honey, you are foul-smelling and much too large. I cannot have pleasing sex with you anymore.’”

Tara giggled with her and they fell into a comfortable silence.

“So, what are you doing here? Researching, I mean,” Buffy asked finally.

“Oh, F-Faith was attacked at work today. I’m trying to find the demon who did it.”

“Cool. How’d it look?” Buffy pulled the closest book over to her and started to flip through it. 

Tara looked up, startled. “You’re doing research? I didn’t know that Slayers bothered with the books.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really much of a researcher back in the old days, but I figure I may as well do something useful while everyone still hates me too much to work with me.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Tara said softly. “It must be hard for you.”

Buffy sighed. “I just don’t know where I stand with anyone, y’know? I mean, Xander says he forgives me, but Anya seems to think that he doesn’t. And there’s probably residual resentment and stuff. Willow says that I don’t matter, but she acts so angry with me…if I could figure out if it’s hurt or anger, then I’d know how to deal with it. But she won’t even be in the same building as me. Giles called her earlier, I guess when he called you? And she said that she wouldn’t come to the Magic Box while I was still there training. But I can’t figure out if she’s just being petty or if she actually can’t stand to be around me because I make her angry or something.” The words were spilling out of Buffy now that someone was willing to listen. “And with Faith… I know I can’t do anything right. She’s going to hate me on principle. And when she finally forces everyone to take sides, they’ll all take hers and I’ll be all alone again, just this time at home!” she burst out, feeling drained.

Tara was around the table and sitting beside her in an instant, pulling her over into a hug. Buffy clung to her.

“You really don’t want to do that,” she said, her voice muffled by Tara’s sweater. “I’ve been working out for like four hours straight.”

Tara laughed. It was a musical, girlish sound. “You’re not alone, Buffy. You won’t be.”

“But Willow…”

Tara pulled away to give her a serious look. “Faith has work tonight. Giles will probably ask you to patrol for her. But if you start early, you can probably finish with most of the night free.” She smiled. “Everyone else is planning to go to the Bronze tonight. Maybe you can try reconnecting without Faith’s shadow hanging over you.”

Buffy gave Tara a grateful hug. “Thank you, Tara. This really means a lot to m-“

The door to the Magic Box swung open. Willow walked in, looking darkly displeased. “Oh. You’re still here.” She gave them both a cold look and moved swiftly into the training room.

“I-I-I…”

Buffy gave Tara an understanding look. “Go ahead. I don’t want to get you into trouble,” she said, smiling understandingly. 

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” Tara murmured gratefully, hurrying after her girlfriend.

“No problem,” Buffy said to the empty room.   
_  
The Bronze. Everyone. Tonight._

_How am I gonna pull this off?_


	8. Chapter 8

“So who is she? A cousin? A lover?”

“Whatever she is, she’s _hot_!”

“Mm…maybe she’s Faith’s lover!”

“Faith’s and Spike’s…that guy is so cool…Imagine him in bed with them…I bet he-”

“Drop the man-crush, we’ve got to figure out this mystery chick before Enterprise is on.”

“What? We’re not watching that crap!”

“Need I mention T’Pol? _Again_?”

“Right...and Captain Archer…”

“She kind of looks familiar.” Jonathan squinted at the grainy picture of the Giles front yard. “I’ve seen her somewhere before. Maybe if we had her name…” His face lit up. “Hey! I heard Xander saying that he’d be at the Bronze tonight. I’ll bet she’s there, too! I can go, and-“

“Ease up, Shorty,” Warren ordered, holding up a hand. “That girl’s never going to even look at you, let alone give you her name. I’m going.”

“That’s not fair,” Jonathan grumbled, settling down onto Warren’s chair. 

“Get out of my chair,” Warren snapped. “When’s the last time either of you even spoke to a girl? Not counting spells!” he added swiftly when Jonathan opened his mouth. Jonathan shut his mouth.

He turned to Andrew. “I’m the only one here with social skills.” Andrew’s head bobbed up and down eagerly. “Any questions?”

Andrew’s eyes went wide as he calculated the times. “But T’Pol!”

Warren lifted his chin. “This is even more important than T’Pol,” he decided. “I’m going in.”

\--

“Hi, Xan!” Buffy said brightly, taking the seat next to him. 

He looked pained. “Buffy! You’re...here. Willow’s going to be here soon.”

Buffy winced. _So Xander also thinks I’ve got no chance. _“Yeah, I know. I thought maybe we could…you know, talk.”

“Talk?” Xander repeated.

Buffy chewed on her lower lip nervously. “You know, work things out, talk things over, come to terms with each other?” She looked expectantly at her old friend. This wasn’t going to be easy, she knew, but the sooner they got it over with, the sooner things would be okay again.

He gave her a look of panicked discomfort. “Look, there’s not really much to talk about. I get why you left, and I don’t blame you for it. Not coming back was a little…”

“Irresponsible?” Buffy offered, remembering some of the terms that people had thrown her way lately. “Hurtful? Cowardly?”

“Kind of, yeah.” That stung. But she deserved it. Xander gave her a pleading look. “But can we just skip the talking stuff?”

“If that’s what you want,” Buffy said, a little relieved. Maybe they’d be able to just…move on from all this. “So, um, how have things been?”

Anya arrived just then, Willow and Tara in tow, and so Xander didn’t respond. Buffy sighed. _Now for the hard part._ She steeled herself and turned to Willow, Tara’s encouraging smile spurring her forward. “So, Will, how’s it going?”

Willow turned to Xander. “Did you hear? That M’Fashnik attacked Faith again just before we left her place. Somehow, he had her address.”

Xander shuddered. “That’s great. Now the demons make house calls.”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “At this rate, we won’t even need to patrol anymore.”

Xander give her a brief smile. Willow didn’t acknowledge her. “Dawn’s probably going to be here tonight. Apparently, there’s some guy?”

“Darren,” Buffy offered, remembering some overheard conversations.

“And he’s only sleeping with the easy girls.”

Anya snorted. “Typical. All guys think about is sex, sex, sex.”

Xander raised an eyebrow. “Anya, all _you_ think about is sex, sex, sex.”

“That’s not true!” Anya retorted. “I’m fond of money, too! And I think about you…but that’s mostly sex, anyway. Oh!” She brightened. “And the wedding! Now, I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I want your honest opinion.”

Xander groaned. “Sure, lay it on me.”

She scowled at him. “Not you! You’re a man! You don’t understand these things.” She turned to Buffy and the other girls. “I’m stuck between off-white or cream-colored tablecloths. Except I know that some slime demons are coming, so I wanted to make some tables a darker color.”

“How about the ends being in black?” Buffy suggested. “Then it all stays symmetrical and you still don’t-“

“I’ll do a dirt-repelling spell,” Willow cut in. “And go with cream.” She turned to Tara expectantly, and Tara nodded quickly.

“Okay.” Anya’s forehead creased. “But what about the floors? I refuse to slip my way down the aisle because some Chaos Demon has a bad cold!”

Willow waved her hand dismissively. “Not a problem,” she said airily. “I’ll take care of it. Tara will help, too, right?”

_Toss her a bone, why don’t you?_ Buffy thought spitefully, but she forced a smile back onto her face and turned to Willow. “So how does a dirt-repelling spell work? I mean, if you try to wipe your hands off on the tablecloth, does the dirt stay on your hand, or does it get incinerated or something?”

Willow seemed ready to pretend she didn’t exist again, but then Tara smiled. “I-It cleans the area of dirt once every five seconds or so. S-so you could wipe off the dirt, b-but it only stays there for a moment.”

Willow glared at her girlfriend. Xander looked mildly impressed with Tara’s unexpected courage at answering Buffy. Anya grinned and opened her mouth, but Willow beat her to it. “Come on, Tara, let’s dance.” It sounded more like an order than a request, but Willow seized Tara’s hand and Tara left willingly, giving Buffy an apologetic look.

“You two seem friendly,” Anya noted, thankfully a moment too late. “She was barely stuttering. And she always stutters when Willow’s around. And Faith. And sometimes Xander.”

“She’s just shy,” Xander mumbled, watching the two girls on the dance floor with some concern. 

Buffy shrugged. “We talked for a while, that’s all.” She wondered why Tara stuttered around Willow. She’d assumed that Willow was just all dark and scary around her, but was she also like that around Tara? Did Willow scare Tara, too? She felt a wave of affection and compassion for the shy witch.

Anya brightened as her eyes lit on a face across the room. “Hey! It’s Meredith! I haven’t gotten an RSVP from her yet!”

Buffy watched worriedly as Anya weaved through the crowd. “She doesn’t mean _her_, does she?” The girl Anya seemed to be heading for was practically having sex with her dance partner on the dance floor. Or…Buffy squinted at Meredith’s lowered hand and looked away quickly, her cheeks suddenly very red. Not _practically. _And besides… “I think that she’s a-“

“Vampire,” Xander finished, nodding. “Yeah. She’s one of the harmless ones. Faith lets them hang around here.”

Buffy frowned. “There’s no such thing as a harmless vamp. Well, unless he has a chip in his head,” she amended, thinking of one chipped vampire and flushing a little more.

Xander brightened. “Speaking of which…” He nodded to the pool tables, where Spike was gleefully winning all the earnings of some very annoyed high school boys. “Wanna play?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy said doubtfully, remembering the last time she’d seen Spike and completely humiliated herself. And thrown up on his shoes.

“Come on, it’s fun!” Xander bounded for the tables. “I’ll teach you! Spike’s been training me in the art of kicking pool ass for ages now.”

Buffy followed, eying Spike with trepidation. “So what’s the deal with this Meredith?”

“Oh.” Xander wrinkled his nose. “It’s kind of sick, really, but they have these bite-houses in Sunnydale. People get addicted to the rush or whatever that getting bitten gives them, and they pay for chicks like Meredith to do it again.”

Buffy made a face. “So it’s a vampire whorehouse? And Faith is okay with this?”

“They’re not killing anyone,” Xander protested. “These people want it. And they sometimes give us information. None of the vampires will talk to Spike anymore, which leaves our only source with them people like Meredith.” He grinned. “Anya and Faith don’t let Spike and me go to meet with them, though. As if I’d want a suckjob!”

“Are you hitting on me, Harris?” Spike asked from his position at the pool table. He leered. “As sure I am that you’re still that nummy treat, Faith gets ever so jealous…”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Yes, because you’re still convinced that I want you. Anya was _joking _about that threesome, Spike.”

Spike’s brow creased. “Everyone wants me. And Anya never jokes.” He turned to give Buffy a genuine smile. “Hello there, Slayer. How’s it going?”

Buffy’s eyes were still darting from Spike to Xander, a little perplexed. And maybe a little turned on.

“He was joking, Buffy,” Xander said hastily. “He has this whole thing with me-“

“Harris is in love with me,” Spike added. “And very deeply in denial. I’m just trying to help.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Buffy had to laugh.

“So where does Anya fit in with all this?”

Spike grinned. “She’s our shared girlfriend in the sitcom.”

“Sitcom.”

“If our lives were a TV show…” Xander put in.

“Ah.” Buffy frowned. “So with all the demons and death and destruction, you think your life would be a sitcom?”

“Funny demons!” Spike objected. 

“In Spike’s version, we have some kind of threesome going on. But don’t tell that to Faith.” Xander grinned. “As far as she knows, Spike lives in our apartment building basement and only comes out at night.”

Buffy laughed. “And in the real version?”

“Well, Anya and Xander are both madly in love with me,” Spike said, straight-faced. “They’ve agreed to share me, just as long as they give me a steady supply of blood.”

“Gross, Spike!” 

“Oh, no.” Spike curled his tongue over his teeth. “I can make it very…pleasant.” 

In response, Buffy felt a frisson shake her core. But outwardly, she just rolled her eyes. “Sure you can.”

“I’m going to get some drinks,” Xander offered. “What do you want, Buffy?”

“Something non-alcoholic for this one,” Spike put in swiftly, smirking at her. 

Buffy pouted at him, watching with a thrill as his eyes fixed on her outthrust lower lip. This was dangerous ground. But it felt so good… 

“So,” she said once Xander was gone. “Who am I in your sitcom?”

Spike didn’t miss a beat. “You’re new this season. Well, old. You used to be on the show in its early days, and our characters just _hated_ each other.” He laughed softly, wryly. “Then, mine mellowed out, thanks to some machinery in his brain, and he hangs with your old friends. Now, you’re my gorgeous new neighbor, and my character still thinks that you’re the most appealing of them all.” He was very close, Buffy realized, a little dazed. “Makes you wonder what the writers are planning for us.”

“Oh, good!” Anya’s shrill voice jerked Buffy from her stupor. “You’ve taken an interest in Spike, not Xander. Now I can add you to the wedding party!” she beamed.

Buffy jumped away from Spike, flushing. Spike didn’t move an inch, just kept watching her with a predatory kind of smile. “What? No. Nothing happened.”

“Oh, please.” Anya tossed her hair. “The unresolved sexual tension here is even turning me on. Come on, Xander.” She grabbed the drinks out of his hand before he could reach them and set them down on the pool table. “I can tell that Spike’s been making you feel insecure about your sexuality again, so let’s dance and then go have sex.” She pulled him away, Xander casting trapped looks back at Buffy and Spike as they watched him go.

Spike grinned. “He’s gotten much better about it. A few months ago, he would have mauled me for teasing him about his crush on me.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on you,” Buffy sighed in mock exasperation.

“Of course he does. He’s hopelessly in love with me.” Spike nodded sagely. “He’s just having trouble admitting it.”

Buffy laughed shortly. 

“Looks like the puppydog’s warmed up to you again,” Spike noted. 

“Puppydog?”

Spike gestured vaguely toward the dance floor, where Xander was showing just how much he _hadn’t _learned to dance over the years since Buffy had last seen him. “Puppy, shaking off the water after a bath.”

Buffy grinned. “I see your point.”

“So you’re all forgiven?” Spike was serious again.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it.” Buffy shrugged. “I guess it’s better than nothing. Although it’s still really awkward when we’re alone.”

Spike nodded understandingly. “And the dark witch is still making trouble?”

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself. “I think she’s just trying to ignore me until I go away. Kind of like how I used to feel about my homework.”

Spike laughed shortly. “And you?”

“Me?” 

“How are you doing?” He regarded her with kindness.

She smiled half-heartedly. “I am _so sick_ of being perky.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I kind of feel like I have to act happy all the time. Like I have no right to object to anything when it comes to Willow and Xander. Would it be so bad if I just yelled at Willow to stop acting like a ten-year-old already and accept that I’m back for good?”

Spike shook his head. “It’s your job to make amends. But there’s no need to try to ingratiate yourself with them. If you think that that’ll help with Willow…”

“It won’t, will it?” Buffy sighed. 

Spike shook his head, a half smile on his face. “I’m sorry, pet.” He handed her the coke Xander had brought for her, stopping midway as he caught sight of something across the dance floor. “I have to go now.”

“Faith,” Buffy said. It wasn’t a question.

“Not exactly.” Spike scowled. “Seems the Little Bit has decided to whore herself out tonight.” He nodded to the dance floor, where Dawn was dressed in something skimpy and revealing and draping herself over an older boy. “I’ve got to go kill her.”

“Have fun!” Buffy tossed after him cheerfully. She watched him go, smiling at the picture he made, facing down the infamous Darren. The poor kid looked like he was going to soil his pants, he was shaking so much. Dawn shouted something at Spike and stormed away. 

Spike hurried back to Buffy. “I’ve got to go after her now. Knowing her, she’ll probably pick a fight she can’t win with a demon now.”

Buffy nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll go socialize.” She made a face.

He laid a hand on her arm, his eyes warm and sympathetic. “If you ever need to find me, I live in a crypt in Restfield. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.” 

She managed a smile. “Thanks. Good luck with Dawn.”

“That’s never happened before,” he muttered, speeding up to catch Dawn before she left the Bronze.

Buffy’s arm burned where Spike had touched it. Where was this insane attraction to Spike coming from? Why was it so ridiculously strong? And why did she have no desire to tamp it down?

Her eyes went wistfully to her friends, old and new. Tara was smiling with Willow, and Willow even seemed to be having fun. She was whispering something into Tara’s ear with a mischievous look in her eye, and Tara was giggling shakily at it. _Maybe they really are happy,_ Buffy mused. Anya was dancing with Xander, uncaring of the “puppydog’s” antics. The two couples bumped midway, and suddenly Xander was sweeping Willow into his arms and Anya was playfully bouncing with Tara. Buffy felt unaccountably lonely.

“Hey.” A guy approached her, his hand extended. “I’m Warren.”

Buffy stared at him. He was dark and not very bad-looking, but there was something uncomfortably sleazy about him. “Sorry, I’m really not up to dancing right now,” she said politely.

“How about some pool?” he suggested. “Do you play a lot, uh…sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Buffy,” she supplied. “No, I think I’m just going to go home. But thank you anyway.”

She left before he could say anything more, a vague sense of unease unsettling her.


	9. Chapter 9

Jonathan slapped his head. “Of course it’s Buffy! I totally forgot about her.”

“You know her?” Warren moved closer, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

Jonathan leaned back, enjoying his newfound knowledge over the others. “Sure. Buffy Summers. We go way back.”

“You go way back with the hot girl?” Andrew breathed reverently. 

“No way he does,” Warren said dubiously. “What, did she once smile at you in the hall?” He reconsidered, eyeing his diminutive friend. “Or scowled at you?”

Jonathan slumped in defeat. “Fine. I didn’t really know her. She hung out with Willow and Xander, mostly, and sometimes Cordelia Chase. One of the library kids. At the end of junior year, she disappeared. I think Snyder kicked her out.” He waggled his eyebrows at Andrew. “They said that she killed someone.”

“Maybe that’s why even Xander seemed kind of freaked out around her,” Warren said thoughtfully. “For one of the gang, she’s really not accepted.”

Andrew’s eyes were shining with the possibilities. “So she’s a killer, returned from an untold Hell Dimension to avenge-“

“Shut up, Andrew,” Jonathan and Warren said automatically.

“Anyway, she didn’t do it,” Jonathan informed them. “Or so her friends insisted.” He squinted at the computer beside him, on which he’d called up Buffy Summers’s police record. “It’s been wiped off of her record, too. Not that she needs much more on it,” he added, frowning at the list of crimes. “Jeez. She was only here for two years, and check out her criminal record. I haven’t seen anything this bad since Faith’s.”

Warren shoved Jonathan’s chair, sending him rolling across the room with a yelp, and took charge of the computer. “She burned down a _gym_ in LA? Caught trespassing in a cemetery six times? What does she think she is, a Slayer?”

“I’ll bet Faith loves that,” Andrew piped up. 

“Unless…” Warren said thoughtfully. “Jonathan!”

Jonathan scowled at him from across the room. “Yeah?”

“How long was the Watcher working in your school?”

Jonathan considered. “Sophomore year and on, I think.”

“And Buffy?”

Jonathan wrinkled his brow. “You don’t think…?”

“She must be some kind of human-demon hybrid!” Andrew concluded triumphantly. “Like Spike, she’s been forced to live among humans, while secretly at night, she emerges and fights the good fight with the Slayer. A demon with a soul, she-“

“No, you idiot.” Warren rolled his eyes. “She’s the Slayer.”

Andrew frowned. “But that’s only one girl in every generation…”

“No, don’t you get it?” Warren jumped up, excited. “Buffy killed someone, right? So instead of having her arrested, the Watchers covered it up. They couldn’t have one of their girls indicted. So they must have imprisoned her and made her go through some kind of training! In the meantime, they gave Faith her Slayer powers and had her come here. And now Buffy’s finished and back! It makes perfect sense!”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan said doubtfully. “We don’t know how the whole Slayer thing works. Or if there are more, other than Giles and that Wesley guy. And why Buffy would be sent here, when there’s already a Slayer. Or-“

“Eh, what do you know.” Warren fixed Jonathan with a sneer, replacing it with a satisfied gloat when Jonathan looked away.

“But this is bad,” Andrew said, pacing. “We can barely fight one Slayer. But _two_… we might as well give up our life of crime now.”

“He’s right,” Jonathan agreed. “Between the witches, Spike, and the Slayers, we’ll never get a foothold in Sunnydale.”

“You morons!” Warren flung the closest thing to him, an R2-D2-shaped mousepad, at Andrew, because he was closest.

“Hey!” Jonathan said indignantly. “That’s mine!”

“Respect the droid, man.” Andrew set it back down lovingly.

Warren ignored them both. “I saw Buffy today, and there was lots of hostility there. The witch wouldn’t even talk to her.” He sat down confidently in the closest chair. “If you ask me, that’s definitely something I can use to our advantage. Just give me time.”

\--

“Everything?” Buffy repeated, dazed.

Her mother’s lawyer nodded. “She stipulated that the house and car should be sold, but their proceeds and everything else she had was left to you. I’ll be honest with you. It isn’t much, after the hospital bills were paid. But it’s certainly enough to live on for the next few years, if you’re not paying rent?”

Buffy shook her head. “Did she…did she say anything about me?” she asked finally.

The lawyer shook his head. “I’m sorry.” Buffy’s face fell. “Oh!” he said hastily. “But there’s also a letter.” He held it out to her, and she took it with shaking fingers.  
_  
My Dear Buffy,_

_If you’re reading this, it probably means that the cancer has finally taken me. I’m writing this letter an hour before I go into this operation. I don’t know if I’ll make it. And as I was sitting there, listening to the doctors tell me how slim my chances were, I realized that I needed to write this, in case you ever came home. _

_When you first left, I was furious. Well, first I was worried. Terrified. I thought…well, I thought that you’d had another breakdown, with all the talk of vampires and demons. And then you disappeared. When I saw your room, with all the closets bare and your suitcase gone, I was terrified that you’d done something drastic. Mr. Giles came by later that night, and I finally put two and two together. I had always wondered why you, of all people, would spend so much time with a librarian. I’ll admit that I initially suspected that he’d been…inappropriate. But when your friends, too, corroborated his story, I eventually conceded that you’d been telling the truth. That vampires were real, and you were the Slayer._

_My sweet, wonderful girl. You’d been through so much, had done things that no teenage girl should ever have to deal with… You were so brave, and I never knew. I never helped. Why didn’t you tell me, Buffy? Why couldn’t you share it with me, let me support you like I want to? With a load like that to bear… I don’t blame you. I was angry at first, but once I got over my initial anger, I didn’t blame you. I blame Mr. Giles for thrusting you into situation after situation that could have gotten you killed. That made you go away. _

_I’m sure you’ll come back to Sunnydale some day, and find out that I’m gone. I can only hope that you’ll receive this letter, and know that I forgive you for leaving. And I hope that you, too, will be able to forgive me for how I reacted to your revelation. I never meant for it to go so far. I’ve missed you. And I love you, more than anything, my daughter._

_All My Love,  
Mom  
_  
\--

She thanked the lawyer, blinking back tears, and headed to Giles’s house with the letter clutched in her hands. She felt lighter, freer now that she had her mother’s love and forgiveness. Nothing could bring her down right now.

Dawn looked up from her seat in front of the television. “Oh. It’s you.”

Not even her housemates. “Yep.” She plopped down next to Dawn, frowning at the television. “What are you watching?”

Dawn shrugged, looking away. 

“Ah, Buffy!” Giles walked into the room, carrying a filthy-looking horn that was almost two feet long and enclosed in an enormous Ziploc bag. “I trust your meeting with your mother’s lawyer went well?”

Buffy nodded, scrunching her nose at the horn. “What is that?”

“Forboga demon tail.” Oh. So, not a horn. “Faith obtained it at work yesterday. They’re very valuable in luck spells, so I’m bringing it over to the Magic Box.”

From beside her, Buffy saw Dawn eye the tail. When she caught sight of Buffy’s eyes on her, she let out an unintelligible grunt and turned back to the television screen, her teeth clenched with stubbornness. 

“So, Dawn, what are you doing home on a Sunday afternoon?” Buffy asked the younger girl. 

Giles answered for her. “Dawn and her friend Janice engaged in certain…unsavory behavior last night. Faith has decided to ground her for it.”

Dawn glared at him. “You mean _you_ convinced Faith to ground me. It wasn’t like we were doing anything so bad.”

“Giles was right,” Faith said from the top of the stairs, rubbing her eyes as she emerged from bed at her typical afternoon wakeup time. “You were stupid, and now you’re gonna pay the price, D.”

“It’s not like I can’t defend myself!” Dawn said, stung. “Why is it your business how I spend my free time?” She turned to Buffy for the first time, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of revenge against her sister. “She is _so_ unfair,” she said, leaning toward Buffy conspiratorially. “All Janice and I did was go to Willy’s Bar last night. It was Halloween, so it’s not like we were in any real danger.”

Faith glowered at her sister and retreated into her bedroom. Giles hid a smile and headed for the door.

Buffy seized the in that Dawn had given her. “Demon bar on Halloween? What’s that like?”

Dawn grinned. “Better than usual. For one thing, Faith isn’t there.”

“Faith?”

“She’s a bouncer at Willy’s sometimes. Well, kind of. Willy says she’s bad for business, so she just stays in the vicinity and Willy pays her to be on call to break up skirmishes. But she had off for Halloween, so we went there to check out the scene.” She made a face. “There were only, like, a dozen demons there. And only two or three looked like they were dangerous.”

Buffy winced inwardly. _If I had a sister, and she went to a demon bar for fun…I’d probably chain her up in the basement for a month. _But aloud, she said, “So how’d you get caught?”

Dawn scowled. “Spike was gambling in the back room. He got all upset that we were talking to this one vamp hottie. Puh-leeze! As _if_ Faith isn’t boinking a vampire all the time! And he was really cute…” she said mournfully.

Buffy laughed, the vision of one particular blue-eyed vampire flashing through her mind. “Most of them are, huh? I guess that if you want to turn someone so you can spend eternity with him, you may as well go for the gorgeous ones.”

Dawn studied her for a moment. “You dated a vampire, right?”

_Oh. Right._ She felt a wave of guilt at forgetting the vampire who had once been the love of her life. “Yeah. Well, until he went evil and started killing people.” She remembered her audience and decided to risk it. “Which, chipped ones aside, is what’ll happen with most vamps. Ang- My vampire had a soul. And even then, it wasn’t enough in the end.”

Dawn’s face set for a moment, angry at her reproof, then calmed almost imperceptibly. “I know,” she admitted sheepishly. “We weren’t actually going to _do_ anything with him. We were just flirting a little.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Buffy agreed, grinning at her. “And I bet that you could defend yourself in a crunch.”

“Oh, definitely!” Dawn launched into a detailed description of some of the martial arts techniques she’d been practicing with Giles, and some rather gruesome streetfighting moves she’d learned when she was younger. Buffy relaxed into the conversation, finding herself liking the girl a little more as it went on.

Abruptly, Dawn stopped, giving Buffy a considering glance. “I’m only being nice to you to annoy Faith,” she said finally.

“I know,” Buffy nodded calmly.

Dawn tilted her head in a way so reminiscent of Spike that it made Buffy smile. “Oh.”

“Want to get some ice cream and watch crappy movies?” Buffy suggested.

“Yeah, okay.”

\--

The next morning, Dawn was back to her bratty self. But Buffy counted the day before as a victory when Dawn took the piece of toast she’d offered with muffled thanks and ate the whole thing. And two more.

“You certainly seem to have won her over,” Giles noted later that day as they trained together at the Magic Box.

Buffy laughed. “She barely spoke to me today, just growled at me to get out of her way. If that’s winning her over…”

“Oh, it is,” Giles assured her. “I’ve been told that all teenage girls are prone to these mood swings.”

“While all teenage boys are practicing magic and raising demons?” Buffy suggested, remembering Giles’s childhood mistakes.

Giles smiled good-naturedly. “Dawn isn’t quite as foolhardy as I was in my youth. Although she does come close, at times,” he noted.

“I’ll bet.” Buffy aimed a flurry of punches and kicks at the punching bag in the center of the room.

“Have you heard back from any of the places you applied to?” Giles asked, straightening the bag.

“Only the Doublemeat Palace. And I’d die before I worked there.” She shuddered at the idea. “But I’ve decided not to work.”

Giles frowned at her. “You’ve decided…?”

“Mom left me enough to live on for a few years.” Buffy moved away from the punching bag to take the towel from Giles’s hand. “So I’m going to take advantage of that. Get my GED, hopefully apply to college next semester.” She met his eyes, her own earnest. “As a Slayer, I might not live very long but at least I can try to make the most of whatever time I’ve got. I’ve wasted enough-”

She stopped short at the indefinable look on Giles’s face. “Um, Giles? Is everything…”

Unexpectedly, he gathered her into a hug.

“I’m all sweaty!” she protested, but drew her arms around him as well.

“You have truly grown up,” he murmured. “I am so very proud of you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't want to make this all lyrics-ey, because more often than not that comes out cheesy. Instead, I will be inserting a few couplets , or sometimes nothing at all, at some points when they sing, and hopefully it won't be too much of a mess… :D It does read differently than most of the other chapters, though.
> 
> Oh, and some lyrics and a lot of the end dialogue taken from "Once More With Feeling," with thanks to the Buffyverse Dialogue Database for their transcripts!

_“…On my own, to everyone it’s all the same  
I know I deserve it, but does there need to be such pain…”  
_  
Buffy sang. She sang of loneliness, of guilt, and of how she lacked direction. 

And only once she staked the last vampire that had been singing backup did she let herself wonder where it had come from. She hadn’t been having the best day, true, but had that really warranted a mental breakdown?

She frowned, searching for the tombstone where she’d left the textbook she’d gotten in anticipation for her GED. She’d spent the whole afternoon trying to register for some GED preparation classes being held at UC Sunnydale, and had been so frustrated by the process that she’d needed to kill something before she got home, or Faith and Dawn might not have made it through the night. Now, at least, she was relaxed, albeit puzzled.

“Having fun?” 

She turned to smile at Spike. “Hey. Been here long?”

He nodded. “Long enough. Was it just me, or were you…?”

“Singing?” Buffy finished. “Trust me, I’m just as confused. One second I was walking through the cemetery, the next, I’m belting out a song about…” Her voice trailed off. “Stuff.”

“Yeah.” His eyes seemed to bore through her, and she looked away, flushing. “I heard.”

He tossed her the textbook she’d been searching for, and she caught it with ease. “Thanks. Are you...uh…do you want to patrol some more?”

“Can’t.” He nodded toward the cemetery gate. “I told Faith that I’d meet her for patrol tonight. I’ve got to get to Shady Hill.”

“Oh.” She sighed, disappointed. “Well, have fun. Keep an eye out for other singers.”

“Will do, pet.” he smiled softly and walked off.

Buffy watched him go, feeling a pang. It was okay. It wasn’t like she’d specifically come to Restfield in the hopes of running into him. No. Not at all.

\--

The second the music started playing, Spike cursed inwardly and clamped his mouth shut. But it was too late.

Spike sang. He sang about two Slayers, so different and yet so alike. He sang of his attraction to both, and the role he currently played in one’s life. Then he sang of the other, the golden-haired, green-eyed warrior who had somehow stolen his heart, and made him, for the first time since Drusilla had left, feel whole. And when he was done, he slumped against the side of the closest crypt, gasping for unneeded breath.

How had he let this happen? It had crept up on him when he hadn’t put up a defense, because he hadn’t expected his lust for the Slayer to mutate into something this huge. He’d gotten too involved, cared too much…

Caring hadn’t been a problem with Faith. Oh, she cared about him. And he cared about her. But they had a friendship, nothing deeper. No huge emotions to deal with, no pesky _love_. When she’d died, he’d mourned with his friends, but he hadn’t felt like he, personally, had lost something. He wouldn’t cry for Faith.

But by nature, he was and always would be love’s bitch, and he was ruled by his passions. And passion was something he’d never really had with Faith, not out of the bedroom. Well, or crypt. Not this burning feeling inside that made him want to grab Buffy, pull her to him, and never let her go. 

He fumbled for a cigarette with shaking hands and exhaled gratefully. _I am so utterly fucked._

\--

“I would know if we were under a spell,” Willow insisted. “I’d sense it.”

“M-Maybe it’s s-someone really strong,” Tara suggested. They were seated at the Magic Box, waiting for the others to arrive. “S-stronger than you?” That was playing with fire, she knew, but she was gambling on Willow just brushing it off instead of getting angry.

Thankfully, she was right. “And I wouldn’t notice that someone like that was in my town?” Willow snorted. “What are the odds?” She checked her watch. “Where is everyone? I wish-“

Anya perked up from her spot behind the counter, where she’d been completely immersed in counting money. “Yes?”

“-They’d hurry up,” Willow finished. “Something’s going on.”

“So it wasn’t just Xander and me!” Anya put down her money and joined them at the table. “With the singing, and the harmonies, and the wedding dress…”

“W-wedding dress?” Tara asked, but she was cut off by the arrival of the rest of the group. Beside her, she could feel Willow tensing at the sight of Buffy. Buffy smiled at them tentatively, and Willow glowered. 

Speculation began almost immediately, invariably as a song, too.  
_  
“…I’ve got a theory we should work this fast  
Because it clearly could get serious before it’s past…”  
_  
Faith sang about unity next, and how they could face anything together. Tara couldn’t help but notice that Buffy wasn’t singing at all, and her heart went out to the other girl. She wasn’t part of their “together,” no matter how hard she tried. Not yet.

The day continued, and tensions were running high as they all researched together with no success. 

“I don’t see why we’re not getting any customers today,” Anya grumbled. “You’d think they all be rushing to the Magic Box to find out what’s going on.”

“Well, this _is_ Sunnydale,” Xander pointed out. “This is pretty normal for us.”

“Beats the mass laryngitis,” Faith agreed, and they all laughed.

“Mass laryngitis?” Buffy asked. “Sounds interesting.”

“You must’ve missed it,” Faith said coldly, and Tara ducked her head, unwilling to take part in the cruel exercise. No one was going to subvert Faith’s authority, not in front of her. Not even when she was bullying one of their own. 

And Buffy was one of their own now, even if she wasn’t part of the team, per se, Tara realized, as Buffy herself flushed and went back to her book. Faith might pick on Buffy, but she couldn’t make her leave, not anymore. 

“How about this?” Buffy suggested, holding out her book to Willow, beside her.

Willow gave her a contemptuous look, and the words escaped her in song. _“That’s ridiculous!”_

_“I was only trying to help…” _Buffy sang plaintively, and the two burst into a duet.

Willow and Buffy sang. Willow sang about power, intoxicating, filling her with life and energy and everything she’d wanted since she was young and useless. She sang about anger and her hatred of Buffy for how Buffy had left them, years before. Buffy sang about missing her best friend and wishing she could have her back.  
_  
“Well, you gave that up long ago!”_ Willow finished triumphantly, and Buffy fled.

Instinctively, Tara rose to follow her new friend, but she found herself hitting what felt like a wall of air. “Go after her and you’ve chosen your side,” Willow remarked offhandedly. 

Tara’s eyes widened, and she turned to the other Scoobies to check their reactions. She was pretty sure they didn’t know that Willow had blocked her with magic, but Giles still looked concerned. Xander, Anya, and Dawn were all gaping at Willow’s ultimatum. Even Faith seemed taken aback.

“J-just g-g-g-going to the b-basement,” Tara said hesitantly.

“Good.” Willow immersed herself in her book again, letting the air-wall she’d created drop.

As soon as Tara was down the stairs, panting with something between horror and tears, she let the song out. Because even though she couldn’t remember it ever happening before, Willow was acting as though this control over her girlfriend was natural. And it felt familiar to her…far too familiar for that to have been the first time it had happened.

Tara sang. She sang of the desire to find herself, be the person that she could be. She sang of how she’d known that she had a life beyond demonic for a year now, and yet she still found herself swallowed up in someone else. She sang of the witch she’d met two years before, and where had Willow gone? Where was the Willow she’d once loved, and was it worth it to stay with the monster so she wouldn’t lose the girl?

And when she was finished singing, she wept.

Willow, near the steps, overheard her sobs and went downstairs. She murmured a few words and fingered something in her pocket.

Tara smiled at her, the tears gone as though her sorrows had been forgotten. And they had.

\--

Faith came down to Spike’s crypt later the next day. “So, you heard about the singing?”

He nodded. “’ve done some of my own, too. It’s a nightmare.”

She smirked. “Tell me about it. I spent half the afternoon listening to the musical stylings of Anya Jenkins and Xander Harris. I think at this point, they’re just trying to stay away from each other until this…thing…is over.”

Spike tilted his head in concern. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Just the airing of much dirty laundry on both their parts.” She snickered. “Anya’s still mad at him that I popped his cherry.”

Spike shook his head. “You should never have told her that, love.”

“Well, it was going to come out sometime.” Faith gave him an unconcerned shrug. “Better sooner than later, huh?”

“And sooner was at prom?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Faith smirked. “Well, I was pissed. I thought that I was going with Xander, since the rich-bitch was out of the picture, but Anya asked him before he could ask me.” She grinned. “Course, it’s better this way. We probably would’ve ended up dating, and for a Slayer like me…” She slunk up next to him, breathing in his ear, “It might be a little…_hard_…to be with someone who can’t match my…energy.”

He should have just reacted, slept with her, and everything would have been fine. But he was still wracked with confusion about how deep the feelings he’d discovered ran within him, and he wasn’t up for some emotionally empty sex. Not now. So he shrugged her off. “You should get back to work. People are burning an’ all that.”

But it was Faith, and so she called him on it. “What the _hell_, Spike? Are you turning me down?” she demanded incredulously.

“’M just not in the mood.”

“You’re always in the mood!” Faith said angrily. “I swear, if this is a Buffy thing…”

He could feel the song, bursting from him before he could stop it, and he ran.

\--

Dawn sang. She sang of loneliness and being overlooked, and was so absorbed in it that when the demon’s minions came for her, she couldn’t even dare to fight back.

Giles sang. He sang as he trained with his first Slayer, and realized that it was time to let her be her own adult. And by the end, he knew that it was time to go.

Tara sang. She sang after she found the Lethe’s Bramble in Willow’s pocket while doing laundry and remembered seeing it before, many times. She sang of the horror of being raped of memory, and that that was something she couldn’t overlook.

They all sang, although singing was the last thing they felt like doing.

\--

Spike came into the Magic Box just after the music stopped, towing a demon minion.   
_  
“My master has the Slayer’s sister hostage at the Bronze…”  
_  
Buffy was out the door in seconds, brushing past Faith as she entered the store. 

“What’s _her_ deal?” Faith demanded, scowling out at Buffy’s retreating back.

“Dawn’s in trouble,” Spike filled her in. “We’ve got to get to the Bronze.” He moved to leave, but she shoved him away. 

“I don’t want your help, Spike,” she snapped, and followed the other Slayer out the door. 

The rest of the Scoobies blinked at each other. 

“We’d better go,” Giles decided. And they went after their Slayers, singing all the way.

\--

“So this is it?” Faith demanded as soon as she caught up with Buffy.

Buffy turned, startled. “Faith! Your sister’s being held hostage. We need to-“

“_We_ don’t need anything,” Faith informed her. “I’ll take care of Dawn.”

“You need backup!” Buffy insisted. “I like Dawn. I want to help!”

Faith laughed bitterly. “Oh, sure. Help.”

Then she was singing to Buffy, and her innermost fears were revealed to her sister Slayer.  
_  
“…You’re taking them away from me,  
I was just a replacement, I always knew;  
Why can’t you just let it be,  
You have to take my sister, too?”  
_  
Faith sang. She sang of fitting in, of being a somebody, and of the fears she had of losing it all now that the old Slayer was back. 

And when she was finished, Buffy backed away, feeling a sudden kinship with the other girl, and let her go.

\--

The Scoobies reached the Bronze in time to hear Faith singing again, this time while the crimson demon watched avidly.

Faith sang. She sang of heaven, and the hopelessness that she felt at learning what her eternity would be. She sang of the hell that heaven became for someone like her, and what point was there in trying when death held no rewards?

And fairly soon, she was spinning and twirling, having completely given up.

Buffy saw it from afar as she stepped into the Bronze, saw the others all frozen in place as they processed Faith’s admission, and raced forward to catch her, throwing her to safety and taking her place on the dance floor.

The demon gestured, and very suddenly, Buffy was caught in the dance, too. She spun, faster and faster and faster…

Spike caught her, his song a murmur as he gently set her still. She met his eyes, and they stood silently, she still in his arms. Faith watched from the side, her eyes darkening in suspicion.

The demon leaned back, a bit bemused. “Now that was a show-stopping number. Not quite the fireworks that I was looking for.”

“Get out of here,” Willow hissed. Buffy wondered to herself if Willow would have cared if she’d died. But no, she _so_ wasn’t going there.

The demon grinned. “Mm, I smell power.” He stood, extending a hand to Dawn. “I guess the little missus and I should be on our way.”

“Like hell you are!” Faith said furiously, drawing a stake and stepping forward.

Sweet chuckled. “I don’t make the rules. She summoned me.”

“I so did not!” Dawn objected. She turned to the others. “He keeps saying that.”

Sweet reached out to stroke the necklace she wore. “You have my talisman on, sweet thing.”

“This?” Dawn said, dismayed. “I stole it from the Magic Box yesterday, after the music started. I didn’t activate it or anything!”

“Dawnie!” Anya looked horrified. “We talked about this! You leave your delinquencies to other stores, not my shop!”

“Not now, Anya,” Giles said, tense. “If it was in the shop… then one of us probably…”

From behind him, Xander raised his hand tentatively.

“Xander!” Anya said reproachfully. 

Xander shrugged self-consciously. “Well, I didn't know what was going to happen! I just thought there were going to be dances and songs. Everything’s been so tense! I just wanted to make sure we'd... we'd get a happy ending.”

Several faces softened in understanding. The demon just laughed. “I think everything worked out just fine.”

“Does this mean I have to…” Xander gulped. “Be your queen?”

Anya turned to the demon in sudden terror. Faith snorted. Buffy and Spike shared a grin.

The demon winked at him. “It's tempting. But I think we'll waive that clause just this once.” He spread his hands in exaggerated helplessness. “Big smiles everyone! You beat the bad guy.”

He sang a farewell song that Buffy didn’t really catch. Something about seeing them all in hell. Then there was an awkward silence. 

Dawn walked to the stage steps, breaking the quiet with a tentative song.  
_  
“Where do we go from here?”  
_  
Pretty soon, Spike had lost patience with the faux-cheeriness of the song and departed without so much as a goodbye. Buffy followed, avoiding Faith’s sharp glare.

“Hey.”

He turned back to nod to her. “Hey.”

She smiled softly. “Thanks for…you know, saving my life and all.”

“Well, you keep things interesting,” he said gruffly, turning away.

She caught his chin and rested her hand on his face gently, turning it to face him. “So do you.”

And then they were moving closer, their eyes locked and their lips millimeters from each other, and Buffy knew that everything was going to change. Her eyes drifted closed and her lips touched-

-His finger? She stared up at him in confusion.

He shook his head sadly, his finger still stopping her from moving any closer. “I can’t. Not now. You just saved Faith’s life.”

“So?” Buffy asked plaintively, hating how needy she sounded but needing it nonetheless.

Spike stroked her lips with his finger, his eyes hooded with regret. “I won’t blow your chances, love. Not at finally working things out with Faith.” 

He kissed her on the cheek, resting his lips there for what felt like forever before he finally stepped away. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah,” she managed, blinking back the sudden moisture in her eyes. “See you.”

He vanished into the night and she sank to the ground. She’d won tonight, and for the first time since she’d gotten back, she’d really made a difference. So why did she feel like she’d lost?


	11. Chapter 11

Giles was leaving.

Buffy left the Magic Box in a daze, ignoring the uproar that had emerged when Giles had declared his plans to go. She didn’t have time for her “friends,” not now. Not Faith and Willow’s hostility, or Xander’s ambivalence, or Tara’s distracted kindness. Not even the way that Spike hadn’t met her eyes the entire time they’d been in the Magic Box together.

Giles was leaving. The one adult in the world she could count on to stay, to be there for her and find her when she’d been lost, and he was going back to England because he “thought it was best.” Two days previous, they’d all admitted to some of their worst, most desperate fears and thoughts. And Giles had picked _now_ to leave?

“Buffy! Please, Buffy, wait.” His voice was tired, wearier than she’d ever heard it before. She stopped to let him catch up to her, then continued walking without a word.

He watched her worriedly. “I apologize that I wasn’t able to warn you beforehand. But the flight leaves tonight, and I daresay I was somewhat reluctant to break the news to you.”

“So...what?” she demanded, stopping to stare him down. “You were just going to vanish? Or, better yet, tell me on your way out? ‘Hey, Buffy, I know I brought you back to Sunnydale to take charge of the whole Slayer gig and instead dumped you into a world where you’re enemy number one, but I’ve got stuff to do in England so I’m just going to leave you behind? Seeya?’”

“Certainly not,” Giles assured her. “However…” He sighed. “I really am less of a help than a hindrance lately.”

“No, you’re not!” Buffy protested. “I need you now, more than ever! I hate to say it, but even _Faith_ needs you now! You heard her the other day. She’s lost hope in good or whatever she sang. This is what she needs, too!”

But Giles was shaking his head. “Buffy, you’ve been acting as an adult for the past three years. But as long as I’m here, you’ll never be able to blossom into the woman I know you can be, the one that you’re slowly becoming now.” He smiled fondly at her. “I believe in you, Buffy. You’re doing quite well, and you don’t need to lean on me anymore. You can do this on your own.”

She wanted to fight with him, to force him to stay. But short of knocking him out, like she had once done years before, there were no ways to keep him with her. So she let him embrace her and reined in the tears.

They came out much later, when he was really gone and she was curled up on his bed, feeling hopelessly adrift.

\--

“B.” Faith emerged from the training room at the Magic Box to nod at Buffy. “Wanna spar?” 

Since Buffy had saved her life earlier in the week, Faith had seemed more cordial, though certainly not friendly. She’d nodded to Buffy in the mornings instead of just snapping at her, and the two times they’d encountered each other on patrol, Faith had just ignored her instead. Buffy was pretty sure that that was as close as she’d get to the other Slayer. So she was pleasantly surprised at the offer. “Yeah, sure.”

In response, Faith tossed a sword to Buffy, throwing overhand instead of underhand, hard enough to embed it, quivering, into the wall near Buffy’s head.

Buffy quirked an eyebrow at her. Faith said, “What are you waiting for?” and disappeared back into the back room.

Buffy followed, bemused, but was forced to jump back when Faith sent a throwing knife directly at the doorway. She slapped it aside with her palm, catching it easily with her other hand and flinging it back at the other Slayer.

Faith grinned humorlessly and flipped across the room, catching Buffy’s head between her legs mid-flip. Buffy winced and jerked her knees into the other girl’s stomach, forcing her away, then took an offensive position.

They went on like that for a long time, fighting with little grace and mostly the raw power they’d both been mystically given. Faith was more skilled, Buffy was more powerful, and so the two were evenly matched. But Buffy didn’t fool herself into thinking that their fight was one borne from camaraderie. No, it was far too malicious for that.

“Nice shot, B!” _You ran away and now you want everything that’s become mine back._

“Good move, ‘_F_’!” _You stole my life and you’re standing in the way of me building a new one!_

“Oh, did that hurt? So sorry.” _Stay away from my boytoy! I see how you look at him._

“Whoops! Gosh, I really hope that doesn’t leave a bruise.” _Spike wants me! I want him! Why can’t you just accept it and let me just have that?_

They pulled apart, both gasping for breath and grinning with the pleasure that only beating up someone they hated could bring.

“Towel?” Buffy offered, pulling one from the pile of towels on the bench against the wall.

“Yeah, sure.”

They stood in silence for a bit, Buffy fingering some of the weapons nearby, Faith watching her warily.

“I am so horny right now,” Faith suddenly remarked, stretching her arms above her head. 

Buffy gave her a dubious look. “Are you coming on to me?”

Faith smirked. “Hate-sex is the best. You should have seen Spike and me after he betrayed us to Adam. I didn’t let him out of bed for days. Then we broke the bed, so I finally let him go. Not that he was at all tired. Vampire stamina, you know.”

“Really don’t want to hear that,” Buffy muttered, turning away from Faith’s sharp gaze.

“Which reminds me.” Faith was suddenly far too close, her lips practically grazing the back of Buffy’s ear. Goosebumps erupted on the back of Buffy’s neck. “You stay away from Spike, or I’ll kill you.”

“Look at you two!” Anya’s cheery voice interrupted whatever Buffy had been planning on babbling in response to Faith’s threat. “I’m usually better at predicting these things. How did I miss that you two fight because you’re secretly in love with each other?”

“In lo-lo-lo-lo-?“ Buffy sputtered.

Faith clapped the other Slayer on the back. “I think you broke her, Ahn.”

Anya beamed at Faith. “You must be so happy. Or is this just a way to distract her from your boyfriend? Spike does seem to have taken an interest in Buffy.”

Faith’s eyes darkened, the humor gone from them. “I think that Buffy just misunderstood something I said. I must’ve taken it too far for Little Miss Prep to handle.”

Buffy, having regained her faculties of speech, chose instead to glare silently at Faith. Faith ignored her. “So why are you here, Anya? Aren’t you supposed to be selling things to unsuspecting victims now?”

Anya sighed expansively. “Well, I would, but the witches are driving away all the clientele right now, and to be honest, I’m a little worried that I might get cursed if I’m in Willow’s earshot.”

“What do you mean?”

Anya nodded to the door. “Tara is trying to break up with Willow in the shop. Why they couldn’t do it at their dorm is-“

“Shh!” Faith edged to the door and opened it a crack.

“Maybe this is personal?” Buffy suggested sarcastically. But she remembered how nervous Tara was around Willow, and so, more than a little concerned about her friend, she followed Faith to the door.

Willow was pleading with the quiet witch. “Come on, Tara, it’s not that bad! I just wanted to stop the fighting! Why does it matter how?”

They could see Tara through the crack, her expression sad but determined. “I’m s-s-sorry, Will. But y-you r-r-raped me of my memory, and I can’t forgive it. W-we can’t get p-past that.” She turned to leave. “W-we’re over.”

Willow gaped at her girlfriend. “But-“

“Goodbye, Willow.” Tara’s voice was firm. She stepped toward the door…

…And then recoiled, thrown backwards by an invisible force. She turned to gape at Willow, hurt and betrayed.

“I’m sorry, Tara,” Willow said tearfully. “But this is what’s best for both of us!” She pulled out a small plant from her pocket and focused on it. An orangey light seemed to pass over it and Tara at the same time, and Tara stopped moving, looking suddenly perplexed. “Will? What were we just talking about?”

Willow beamed at the other girl. “I was saying that we should go out for dinner tonight, just the two of us,” she said smoothly.

Tara grinned. “S-sounds good!”

And they left the shop, leaving Buffy staring behind them in horror. “My god,” she said finally. “Has that…has it happened before?”

Faith shook her head, her dark eyes worried. “Not that I know of.”

“Of course it has,” Anya informed them. “Willow’s been stealing Lethe’s Bramble from the shop for months. She wipes Tara’s memory all the time. I thought everyone knew.”

“Of course we didn’t!” Buffy shook her head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Anya shrugged. “It’s not so unusual. There are a few demon species where it’s routine to wipe memories from a mate, whether to make peace or for a renewed sexual zest. It really spices things up if one mate doesn’t remember ever-“

“Enough.” Faith held up a hand. “We just…we need to not discuss this. It isn’t our business what goes on between Willow and Tara.”

“Don’t you think it’s Tara’s business?” Buffy demanded, aghast. “You really wouldn’t say a word to her?”

Faith turned away. “We need both of them happy. It’s not our job to cause trouble where none needs to exist.” She threw on her coat. “This is between Willow and Tara.”

“And you need Willow more than Tara,” Buffy muttered as Faith headed for the door.

Faith stopped walking, her back ramrod-straight. Buffy waited. 

But instead of retorting, Faith just left the room, not turning back once. 

“I’d better go mind the counter,” Anya said cheerfully.

\--  
_  
To tell or not to tell…  
_  
She wasn’t afraid of Willow, right? She wasn’t at all afraid of incurring the wrath of a witch who could freeze her in place, or make her forget everything she’d ever done. She wasn’t afraid of a witch capable of raising the dead.

Okay, fine. She was a little afraid.

But Tara…poor Tara, being kept as little more than a _slave_ to Willow, forced to stay with her, to _want_ to stay with her, despite what the dark witch had done… Tara deserved to know, right?

Buffy kicked a stone through the cemetery as she patrolled, glumly considering her options. If she told Tara, what could Tara possibly do? Willow would just wipe her memory again, but then she’d also know that Buffy had tried to destroy her relationship. If Giles were around, she could have told him. He’d know what to do, with the whole irresponsible use of magic thing.

But Giles was gone. She could ask Xander for help, but how much good would he be? He seemed bent on avoiding conflict, and she was sure that he’d side with Faith on this.

Which left Spike, who’d been avoiding her since their almost-kiss.

It wasn’t _fair_. Just because they’d both finally admitted how they felt about each other, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t see each other again. Buffy missed the stupid vampire for more reasons than just that kiss. He’d accepted her, understood her, and didn’t much bother with Faith’s vendetta against her. They could have, at the very least, been friends.

She’d seduce him from Faith eventually that way.

She grinned to herself, squinting around for Spike’s crypt. He’d told her that it was in Restfield somewhere, and there weren’t very many larger crypts in the area, so she was betting it would be…

That one.

She pushed open the heavy stone door, grinning at the television and armchair she caught sight of as soon as she entered. _Definitely Spike’s crypt…_

“Spike?” she called out tentatively.

She heard a faint sound, coming from…below? 

_Oh!_ She spotted a coffin, its top off and a trapdoor inside. Cautiously, she climbed down the ladder.

And nearly fell from the bottom rung as she set eyes on Spike’s bed.

He and Faith were entwined on the bed, Spike pounding into her from behind, his hands tight on her body as she cried out in pleasure, panting and moving wantonly as he moved with her. Their bodies shuddered together as they both came at once, screaming as one entity.

Buffy wanted desperately to move, to run, anything, but she stayed frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes away from their display.

Faith’s eyes refocused as she caught sight of their audience. “Hey, B,” she said, her face smug. “We’re a little busy at the moment. Mind coming back later?”

“Buffy!” Spike’s eyes were wide in dismay. He fumbled for the sheets to cover himself, while Faith lounged against him in utter unconcern. “I’m sorry, pet, I-“

Buffy finally regained her faculties of speech. “Sorry I interrupted,” she said hastily, reaching for the ladder again. “I…I…I’m…” She climbed away from them rapidly, fleeing the cemetery at top speed and tamping down the feelings of embarrassment and irrational betrayal that had welled up at seeing the two together.


	12. Chapter 12

_Seven o’clock Monday evening, in Shady Hill cemetery.   
_  
Buffy was on her fifth demon of the night, a Fyarl that didn’t seem at all impressed by her quick work with a stake, when she felt a familiar tingle and caught sight of a shock of blond hair. 

She made a hasty retreat and was gone from the cemetery before he could catch up to her.

~

One o’clock Tuesday afternoon, at the Magic Box.

She’d been sure he wouldn’t be there then, in the middle of the afternoon. But apparently, Spike didn’t let sunshine get in the way of what he wanted, and there he was, flirting shamelessly with Anya and Tara inside, when she started to open the door.

She went out to grab lunch before she returned. This time, Tara and Anya were still there, but Spike was thankfully gone. 

“Hey, guys,” she greeted them, pulling up a chair next to Tara. “What’s going on?”

“F-Faith asked me to look into some spells to alter perception,” Tara told her. “Sh-she thinks that they’ll be good for fighting the new bad guys, since th-they did something like that to her.”

“Alter perception?” Buffy repeated.

“Yes, like memory spells,” Anya said briskly, ignoring Tara’s frown. 

“Well, n-not just memory spells,” Tara said. “I guess they’d also fall under that c-category, though.” She flipped through her book, frowning.

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up. _So Faith doesn’t want to get involved, but still wants Tara to know without Willow finding out how she knows? Shame that she has no finesse about it. And that Anya apparently doesn’t know how to keep a secret._ She wiped the redeeming thoughts about Faith out of her head. She didn’t really feel like being nice to Faith. Not after Faith had basically marked Spike as her territory. _I’m surprised that she didn’t pee all over him, too, _Buffy thought resentfully. 

And just like that, all the pro-Faith thoughts were gone.

~  
_  
Seven-thirty Tuesday night, in front of the house.  
_  
She could see him leaning against the fence post, smoking up a storm, his eyes shifting from window to window like a predator hunting his prey. Who was his prey today? Faith had work, Buffy had patrol. Both in places that he frequented. Buffy couldn’t remember Spike ever picking Faith up before, though.

“He must have information,” Faith said, barging into Buffy’s new room and joining her at the window. She’d switched to Giles’s old one when a bad rainstorm earlier in the week had flooded the basement floor and left it damp and a little moldy. So now her housemates had apparently decided that they had free reign of her room. “He usually walks me to Willy’s when he’s got something important to tell me.”

“Good for you.” Buffy tried to sound uninterested.

Faith smirked. “Nice try. Once more, without the googly eyes.”

Buffy felt her anger flare at that. “Shut up, Faith.”

Faith opened the window and yanked up her shirt to flash Spike. He rolled his eyes, cocking his head to face Buffy. Buffy looked away.

Faith slammed the window shut. “It was cute at first, this crush you’ve got on my man. But you need to cut it out. Now. Because if there’s one thing you need to know about Faith the Vampire Slayer…” She pulled the curtains in the room so that Spike couldn’t see in, and headed for the door. “I don’t like to share.”

~  
_  
Ten o’clock Wednesday night, the Bronze.  
_  
She should have known, when she didn’t run into Spike on patrol, that he’d be here. But she hadn’t been thinking, too distressed at the sight of Willow and Tara acting cozy while watching Dawn to think about Operation: Avoid Spike.

Now, she was going to have to wait until he and Xander finished their game of pool before she had a chance to speak to the human boy.

Spike sensed her, of course, sitting alone at a corner table facing them and drinking something vaguely alcoholic. He turned to face her too quickly for her to dodge his gaze and quirked an eyebrow at her.

But he didn’t approach her. Buffy knew he’d taken her cues and was going to let her get away with avoiding him. Instead, he just poked Xander, nodded toward her, and made a hasty retreat.

Xander wandered over, gazing back at the pool table longingly. “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you,” Buffy said finally. Xander wasn’t the first person she’d have chosen to go to with this problem, but she was avoiding Spike, and Tara…

“It’s about Tara.”

“Oh.” Xander blinked. “Right, Anya told me. Willow’s been wiping Tara’s memories.”

“Yes!” Buffy frowned at the uncomfortable look on Xander’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Look…” Xander shifted in his seat. “You really don’t want to get involved in this. Willow won’t like it.”

“So?” Buffy shook her head in disbelief. “Don’t tell me that Xander Harris is a coward, afraid of his best friend!” 

“I’m not _afraid_ of Willow!” Xander said, stung. He took a deep breath. “Look. I’ve been here for a while. And you haven’t. Willow and Tara…they’re _good_ together. And sure, Willow’s gotten freakishly scary lately, but she’s still the same old Will, and I know she knows what she’s doing. It’s not like we have to hold an intervention for her.”

“She’s a control freak,” Buffy retorted. “She’s forcing Tara to be with her. Why is that right?”

Xander looked away. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “But it’s not our business.”

\--

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” Warren growled, scowling at his computer.

“What is it?” Jonathan asked, bored.

Warren gestured at the screen. “The witch is on to us.”

“Damn.” Jonathan frowned. “Should we call off the mission?”

“No,” Warren said, a devilish smile spreading across his face. “I’ve got a plan.”

\--

Faith frowned. “Are you sure?” She hadn’t seen anything that would indicate what Willow was hypothesizing, not from their mysterious new villains.

Willow nodded, the black energy crackling from her fingers into the laptop and calling up another set of files. “Someone’s been tampering with the security system at the museum, specifically in the area where this diamond is located. I’d bet it’s our time-altering friend.”

Faith tried to make sense of the files on the screen, but eventually gave up and turned back to her friend. “How did you even find this?” she wondered. “I mean, of all the random places where this guy could attack…”

Willow shrugged. “I’ve got my fingers in every enterprise in Sunnydale. Last year, our Big Bad was hiding in the hospital, of all places. Who knows where demons could show up next?” Her eyes glittered, suddenly hard as steel. “I’m just trying to be useful, since for some reason, you’ve put Tara in charge of researching memory spells instead of me.” Faith felt a chill run through her at Willow’s cold glare. She concealed it quickly. Willow didn’t respect fear. “Now why would that be?”

Faith shrugged, nonchalant. “I wanted to give her something to do. You’re the head witch, and you barely ever need her help. I felt bad.”

Immediately, Willow’s expression changed from cold to concern. “You don’t think she’s feeling insecure, do you?”

“Maybe a little?” Faith ventured. Willow’s one weakness was Tara. As long as she kept her on that thought, Willow wouldn’t be wondering just what Faith might know.

She shook her head. How long ago had it been that Willow had been her best friend, the supportive, quirky sidekick type who thought the world of her? The girl that had come to her when she had started on magic, when she had wanted a new look, or when she was afraid she might be gay? When Glory had hurt Tara, it had brought out something dangerous in Willow, something that had stunned Faith. Willow was _strong_, she’d discovered that night. Willow could hurt Glory. So Faith had encouraged Willow’s power, praised the darkness that had subsumed her while Giles worried about it. 

There was nothing like a role model’s praise to send someone down a dangerously dark path.

But Faith tried not to think about it. As a Slayer, she couldn’t dwell on past mistakes. Her job was to live in the _now_, and take the threats as they came. Willow wasn’t a threat, but an ally. And Faith wanted to keep it that way.

“Oh, no,” Willow sighed, wringing her hands in worry. “Poor Tara…” She stood. “I’ve got to go. Do something for her. Keep her safe.”  
_  
Stifle her and imprison her in a bubble? Faith thought as Willow left. But she didn’t say it out loud.  
_  
Bored, she touched the screen of the laptop, jerking her hand back when it sizzled with electricity. _Whoa. Weird._

For a while, she amused herself by seeing how long she could hold her hand against the screen. When her fingers were tingling and sparking little electric shocks every time she touched them to each other, she gave it a rest. It was probably a good idea to stake out the museum today, anyway. Although the last thing she wanted to do was spend a day alone at the most boring place in Sunnydale… 

It occurred to her to bring Spike, but she quickly nixed that idea. If there was anyone out there who had a shorter attention span than she did, it was Spike. They’d probably just end up having lots of sex instead of watching the diamond. Not that Spike was being very forthcoming about sex, either, these days.

“Not fair,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled on her coat. It wasn’t. She’d spent three years cleaning up the mess that Buffy had left behind, and now what did she have to show for it? A little sister who’d been hanging out with Buffy instead of with her. At least two Scoobies who also seemed to prefer being with Buffy. Her father figure treating Buffy like his daughter and Faith like a poor substitute. And worst of all, _her_ man, the one she’d been with for over two years, was treating Buffy like she was the best thing since sliced bread.

Faith didn’t delude herself. She and Spike weren’t in love, not at all. They were just two friends who enjoyed fucking, too. But she’d always (alright, after Adam) been able to count on him. She’d always known that he would back her up. Except now, when her enemy was slowly stripping away the connections she’d been building for years, and everyone’s reactions were, “Suck it up, Faith.” Get over it. Move on. Buffy was taking everything back, and no one seemed to care. And Spike…that idiot, he was already practically in love with her. He was backing Buffy, not Faith. And Faith hated them both for that.

At least she had loyal Willow, who felt the same way. And she wasn’t going to give her up, no matter how creepy she’d become.

She took the mail in absentmindedly, flipping through bills and junk to a manila envelope addressed to her. It hadn’t been mailed, either. It had no stamps or address, just her name written in clear, block letters.

She opened it, pulling out the pictures inside.

“You’re shitting me,” she mumbled, gaping at them. Spike and Buffy, in her basement. Spike, leaning over Buffy as she lay in bed. Bending to…kiss her? Spike and Buffy, outside the Bronze. Talking. Leaning closer. Spike, a finger to Buffy’s lips as he hovered millimeters away. Spike, kissing Buffy on the cheek.

She didn’t think about how her mysterious sender had gotten images in her basement. She didn’t think about the possible jewelry heist, or why she’d gotten this package. Her only thoughts were of Spike, and that bitch. 

Oh, yes. Faith would show her who owned Spike.

\--  
_  
Eleven o’clock Thursday evening, in her room.  
_  
Buffy banged her head against the desk in her new room, wondering when math had gotten so complicated. She was pretty sure that she had never learned any of this in ninth, tenth or eleventh grade, and there was no way anyone could learn it in only one year. But if she was going to get her GED, she needed to grasp trig. Damn. 

“Don’t think so,” she heard a low English voice from the next room, and her head popped up. Spike! She smiled despite herself.

Then it faltered as she realized that there was only one reason why he’d be in Faith’s room.

“Oh, come on. You get off on doing it here,” she heard Faith say coyly. “Remember when Giles was-“

“I’m not going to do it, Faith,” Spike said impatiently.

“Why? Because of _her_?” Faith said, the venom in her voice startling Buffy. She hadn’t sounded that pissed about Buffy since the musical demon. “Are you afraid you’ll hurt poor little Buffy’s feelings?”

Spike sighed. “Look, Slayer, I’m not going to help you in some insane scheme to rub it in Buffy’s face.” 

Buffy felt a surge of affection for the vampire. She moved to the bed so she could hear better, leaning her head against the dividing wall that stood between them.

Faith wasn’t finished. “Rub _what_, exactly? Our sex life? The fact that you’re with me and not her?” Her voice was rising, and Buffy was sure that Dawn was awake in her room, too, listening in to the conversation. “That she’s what you want?”

“Keep this up, and…” Spike muttered leadingly, loud enough for Buffy to hear.

Faith punched him, and he slammed into the wall with a crash.

Buffy jumped up and headed for the door. Spike had the chip; he couldn’t defend himself against Faith if she decided to go crazy. She skidded into the hallway, meeting an equally worried Dawn halfway, and they opened the door-

-Just in time to see Spike slam her back reflexively, throwing her across the room easily. And not recoiling from the chip at all.

It seemed like time stood still for a moment. Faith and Spike both looked stunned. Dawn was shaking with unconcealed worry. Buffy, who’d barely gotten used to the idea of the chip, wondered what this meant for all of them.

Finally, Faith stood up shakily and made the decision she had to. “Get out,” she growled at Spike.

He glanced over at their audience. “Faith, I-“

“Get _out_!” she snapped, shoving him toward the door.

His hand brushed Buffy’s on his way downstairs, and she watched him go regretfully. If anything, this was a wakeup call. She might have feelings for Spike, but as soon as the chip was gone, he was nothing more than a monster. She’d forgotten the most important lesson that Angelus had taught her, but she wouldn’t stray again.

She was just glad that things hadn’t gone any further between them. It might have broken her heart.


	13. Chapter 13

“This is serious,” Faith said, pacing back and forth through the Magic Box, a stake clenched in her hand. “We’re going to take care of it. I have to.”

Xander stood up, frowning. “Look, I’m the first guy to say that vampires can’t be trusted, but this is Spike. And I don’t think he’d hurt any of us, chip or not.”

It was the next day, and Faith had called everyone to the Magic Box to talk about the new threat. It figured, Buffy thought wryly. She’d finally been considered part of the group, just in time to kill the one Scooby she liked best. Spike would be so happy for her, if he weren’t about to turn to dust.

“He attacked me last night,” Faith retorted.

“You hit him first!” Buffy objected. “It was a reflex.”

“Shut up, B.” Faith turned back to Xander. “And no, I don’t think he’d hurt any of us. But what’s to stop him from feeding on the rest of the town?”

“Remember how he was when he first came to Sunnydale?” Willow agreed. Until then, she’d seemed more absorbed in wrapping her arms around Tara’s waist than the conversation, and Buffy choked back the revulsion that welled up at the sight. Now wasn’t the time for it. “He’s a threat. We have to get rid of him.”

Xander looked troubled. “What if we could get him a new chip? Or a soul?”

“Because that worked so well last time,” Willow said sarcastically. “Come on, Xander. Scoobies stop being Scoobies when they start killing people.”

For an instant, Buffy thought she saw Faith and Willow exchange a furtive glance. Then it was gone and she was nearly sure that she’d imagined it.

“He hasn’t killed anyone yet!” Xander objected.

“Not that we know of,” Anya added. She shrugged at Xander’s betrayed look. “Well, it’s true. But we’re not killing Spike. Not so close to the wedding.”

Faith threw up her hands. “Of course. The wedding. Because that’s so much more important than the vampire killing people!”

“H-He m-might not even b-b-be in town anymore,” Tara said quietly.

Willow perked up. “Yeah, Faith. Why didn’t you go after him last night?”

Faith looked away, and Buffy suddenly recognized the other Slayer as herself, years before, letting Angelus go when she’d had him cornered because she just couldn’t kill him yet. “I gave him a chance to leave. If he hasn’t left, then I’ll kill him.” She turned to Buffy suddenly, her eyes challenging. “What do you think, B? Do we kill our friend the vampire? I know you have experience with these things.”

Buffy recoiled at both the hostility and the words. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I’ll come with you.”

“I didn’t invite you along,” Faith grumbled, heading for the door. “And I don’t need someone protecting Spike when I’m trying to kill him.”

“I can do what needs to be done,” Buffy said coldly. Faith knew how her last encounter with a rogue vampire had gone. Was it so hard to lay off the baiting her, just this once? “_You’re_ his girlfriend, remember? You’re the one with the conflict of interest.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him.” Faith was glaring at her again. 

Buffy frowned at the words. “Neither am I.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Faith muttered.

~

Restfield was empty during the day, usually. Many vampires had the nasty habit of rising and then killing their friends and family, so few mourners actually remained for the deceased in Sunnydale. Today, it was cold and overcast and silent, the tension between the two girls as palpable as the damp, thick air as they trudged reluctantly toward Spike’s crypt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Buffy asked finally, tossing a sidelong glance at Faith. She’d taken her time getting weapons ready, walked to Restfield rather than accepting a ride, even stopped off at Sunnydale High to check on Dawn on the way. She’d done everything but actually go to the crypt and do what had to be done.

Faith turned to the other Slayer, a caustic remark on the tip of her tongue, but bit it back at the genuine concern on Buffy’s face. “I’m the Slayer,” she said simply, pushing open the door to Spike’s home. 

Buffy understood.

Spike was seated on his armchair, nursing a glass of blood as he stared blankly at the static on his television. “H’lo, ladies,” he said dully, not turning to face them. 

Faith tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to stand up. Beside her, Buffy leaned against the stone wall. This was Faith’s battle, not hers, and she was just there as backup._ How ironic. The first inter-Scooby battle and I’m on the wrong side._

Spike didn’t move.

Frustrated, Faith grabbed the armchair with Slayer strength, spinning it around to force Spike to face her. She climbed onto Spike’s lap, touching the stake to his chest. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded.

Effortlessly, he stood up, knocking Faith to the ground, walked to Buffy, and pinched her on the arm before she could react. “Ow!” Buffy slapped him away as he flinched back with obvious pain. She frowned, staring at him in confusion. “Wait. Why are you hurting?”

But he’d already turned back to Faith. “It’s just you, Slayer,” he said quietly. “Something happened…you’re not quite human anymore.”

Faith picked herself up, staring wide-eyed at Spike. “No. What do you mean? I can’t-“ She held out her arm for him. “Hurt me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, pinching her, same as Buffy. There was no recoil.

“Again!” she demanded, her eyes darkening with something close to wild terror. He slapped her lightly. Nothing. “Again!”

“Faith, it’s not going to change,” Buffy tried to reason with the slowly panicking girl, reaching out to push her hand down.

Faith shoved her away, and pressed the stake against Spike’s chest again in a threat. “Bite me,” she commanded, shaking.

Spike stared. “I don’t think-“

“Do it!” she ordered, pushing the stake inward.

Buffy grabbed it from Faith, pushing her away from Spike and stumbling against him. He caught her easily. “It might be nothing,” Buffy argued. “Just some side effect of reanimating a corpse or something. I doubt that…”

But Faith didn’t hear anything that Buffy was saying. She threw open the door to the crypt, unthinkingly letting light pour in, and raced out of the cemetery.

With a sudden curse, Spike dove under the armchair until Buffy finally shut the stone door securely again. “Thanks, pet,” he said, moving to sit down again. 

“Well, I couldn’t save you from a staking and then let you burn to dust, now, could I?” she said gamely, taking a seat on top of the low television.

He regarded her with serious eyes. “Is that why you came here? To save me?”

She sighed. “No, I guess not. I don’t know. You might have been killing people.”

“I wouldn’t, you know,” Spike said suddenly. “Kill people. Not if it meant losing everyone.”

“That’s not a reason not to kill,” Buffy told him, sighing. “If you had a soul, you’d get it.”

“Right.” Spike was unconvinced. “Because you humans don’t kill because of your souls. Not because of your police, or the recriminations, or-“

Buffy shook her head. “It’s because the guilt would eat us alive,” she explained. “If I’d hurt someone like that…”

Spike snorted. “And you think that vampires don’t feel guilt?” he asked sardonically. “You think if I let the Little Bit get hurt, or Harris or the White Witch, I wouldn’t eat myself up inside with guilt?”

“You feel guilt about the people you care about,” Buffy conceded. “But what about a total stranger? That wouldn’t make a difference to you.”

Spike frowned. “So you’re saying that criminals aren’t human, if they hurt people and don’t feel guilt? How about people in law enforcement, or mobsters, or people who act in self defense?“

Buffy shook her head. “It’s different,” she said helplessly. “You don’t know what’s going on in their heads, if they’re sorry-“

Spike stood up, moving to stand in front of her. “How about this?” he said softly. “I don’t need a soul, because there are people out there who can teach me what’s wrong without some thing in my head telling me what’s what. Why does it have to make a difference?”

“It does,” she said desperately. “It has to.” _Because if vampires can be good, I’m a murderer. Because why couldn’t my last lover just be good like Spike?_

His eyes softened as the understanding came. “I’m not a normal vampire, Buffy,” he said gently. “I’ve always known that. I was turned by a madwoman, and I think it had an effect on my loss of humanity.”

“So what, you’re _special_?” Buffy said skeptically. “Now you’re a whole new species, with the best of human and demon all mixed up in-“

“Slayer.” He put a quelling hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know. But I do know this.” He met her eyes earnestly. “I may not feel guilty about killing two of your kind, or any of the murders before the chip. But I would feel guilty now, if I killed anyone. Because I know that it would hurt all of you to hate me, or to kill me.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” she muttered. 

He shrugged. “It didn’t make sense that I felt remorse after what happened the last time you were in my crypt, too, but I can’t help it. Sorry I’m messing up your worldview or whatever, love.”

She turned away from him, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be avoiding him. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Spike nodded. “I see.”

“I mean, you’re entitled. You’re with Faith, not me.” She wanted to stop talking, to keep it all bottled up inside instead of revealing this much to him, but her mouth just kept moving, unbidden. “Although first you act like you’re sorry that we _aren’t_ together, and then you go off and have a fun time with Faith!”

“I didn’t-“

She cut off swiftly. “And _then_, to confuse matters even more, you refuse to do anything with her last night. So what you’ve really got me wondering is why? Why would you-“

“You know why,” Spike said softly, his eyes seeking hers out. 

She hesitated at his unwavering gaze. “It doesn’t matter. You can go back to Faith.” The words hurt, but not as much as it would if things went sour between them. “I’m not going to date another vampire. Not now, not ever.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? I’m not Angelus, you stupid bint!”

Buffy clenched her fists. “Don’t say his name!”

“Or what?” Spike taunted, moving his hands to her shoulders, forcing her to stay still. “You’re going to actually accept that he never loved you? That he wasn’t capable of love? That you’ve been completely ruined for relationships by a bastard who never treated you the way you-“

She yanked his head forward until it was only inches from hers. “Shut up!” she hissed, and smashed her lips to his.

He responded immediately, pulling her up against him and back toward the armchair. She gave him one last shove, letting him pull her with him as he fell into the seat, climbing up on his lap and drinking in the passion that accompanied the kiss. His lips molded to hers as their tongues danced desperately, straining further and further into each other until they couldn’t be any closer. Buffy was wrapped around Spike, clutching at him with all she had and needing more, _more_…

Then she had to pull away from him, gasping for the oxygen she’d forgotten she needed in the throes of passion, and she finally remembered herself.

She stared at him, wild-eyed, and couldn’t help wondering. Where did she go from here?


	14. Chapter 14

On the screen, Anya was cheerfully talking to a customer. “I much prefer the jasmine-scented candles. Even though the lilac ones are less likely to attract small demons, jasmine has other special properties.”

“Ha!” Jonathan raised his shot glass to his lips.

“Such as?” On the screen, the man seemed slightly taken aback by her reference to demons.

“Oh, these jasmine ones are an aphrodisiac,” Anya said matter-of-factly.

“Score!” Andrew called out, throwing back a shot of his own. 

Warren scowled at them. “What are you two numbskulls doing?”

“We’re playing the Anya drinking game. Duh,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s a competition. When Anya says anything about demons, I drink,” Jonathan explained. “When she mentions sex, Andrew drinks. Whoever finishes his six-pack of Kool-Aid first wins.”

Warren stared at them disbelievingly. “You’re pathetic.”

“Well, what else is there to do?” Jonathan shrugged. “We’re going to need at least another day of waiting before the Inviso-Ray is ready for modification.”

“Yeah, and there’s only so much Faith-Spike footage we can watch before we’re finished. And less and less of that coming in every day.” Andrew stared morosely at the next computer, which displayed the image of Spike in his crypt, talking heatedly with Buffy.

“Are you kidding?” Warren said, gaping at them. “Forget Faith and Spike. Check out those two! It’s porn in the making!”

As if on cue, the Buffy onscreen launched herself at Spike and the two started making out. Vigorously.

“The first kiss in a secret love, the two finally confess their true feelings,” Andrew started dramatically. “The forgotten Slayer and the Vampyre fighting for-“

“Shut up, Andrew,” the other two said simultaneously.

“What are we going to do?” Jonathan asked worriedly. “Send it to Faith?”

Warren shook his head. “When will you learn? We wait until we’ve got enough to turn Faith against Buffy. Then, we let them finish each other off.”

They all practiced their evil laughs together. 

\--

“I have to go.” Yes. That was it. She’d leave, regroup, figure out what had just happened. She turned to leave.

He took her by the wrist, pulling her lightly until she was wrapped in his arms again, and kissed her again. She took it in greedily, letting her lips meld to his, her tongue dance in his mouth, his hands stroke the small of her back gently…

“Wait,” she murmured, pulling away from him, just an inch. “What are we doing?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I know that you haven’t been snogging every wanker you’ve seen since you got here, but I’m pretty sure you know what this is.”

“Snogging?” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Really, you Brits need a better word for kissing. That just sounds gross.” Then she remembered. “Hey, I’m mad at you!”

“_You_ kissed _me_,” he pointed out. 

“I did not!” she protested, sighing at the lie. “Okay. I did. But it’s not like it means anything, right? You’re with Faith.” She waited expectantly for his response, for the okay to get back to the Spike Lips. Mmm…Spike Lips…Lips Of Spike…

“Trying to kill me is grounds for a breakup, I’d think,” he said dryly.

“Oh, like that’s stopped you before?” Buffy said skeptically, suddenly remembering their last alliance, Spike holding Dru back while she clawed at him, screaming for her Daddy…

“True,” he acknowledged, “But I’ll take my excuses where I can… And why are you fighting this, anyway?”

“Oh, right.” She stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his again, letting herself relax into his embrace.

They stood like that for a while, just their lips against each other, nothing further, enjoying their nearness as they held each other. Finally, Spike scooped her up and sat back down on the armchair, Buffy on his lap. She curled up against him contentedly. This was perfect. Exactly what she wanted. She wondered if it was what he wanted, too. “I’m not going to sleep with you,” she informed him suddenly. 

“Yeah, that’s probably wise,” Spike agreed. “Not until I can make sure that Faith knows it’s over.”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean ever,” Buffy said, pulling away from him a bit.

“Buffy-“ He stopped, staring at her. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah.” She stood up. “Sorry. You can go back to Faith now.”

Spike scowled at her. “If this is how you start every relationship…”

“There were no other relationships,” she felt obliged to inform him. “Not since I left Sunnydale.”

Spike shook his head. “He really did a number on you, pet.”

“Don’t,” she said weakly. She didn’t want to bring _him_ up again, not to ruin what peaceful conversation they’d finally been able to have. She had things to say to him, things to ask…

“Tara!” she finally remembered, feeling guilty that she hadn’t before.

“What’s that, pet?” He patted the arm of the chair, and she sat on it reluctantly, but didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto his lap.

“Tara. Willow’s been…doing stuff to her.”

Spike’s eyes flashed yellow, his mouth curling into a snarl. “Hurting her? If that bloody witch-“

“Not like that,” Buffy said quickly, putting a calming hand on Spike’s arm. “She’s been wiping her memory, I think. Tara tried to break up with her, and Willow just erased the memory from her. Majorly creepy.”

“I’ll kill her,” Spike ground out. “I’ll rip out her throat, and shove it up her-“

“Easy, tiger,” Buffy soothed him, kissing him gently on the cheek. She wasn’t quite sure if he was going to ditch her now or not, but at least she’d enjoy him until he made his decision. He’d have to be willing to stay with her, despite the celibacy, and Buffy was no fool. She understood the size of his libido and how often he was probably used to getting it from Faith, and she was pretty sure what his decision would be.

For a moment, she thought longingly of Spike inside her, making her feel things she barely remembered. But she quashed the feelings immediately. There would be no sleeping with vampires. That never ended well.

He was still raging, though. “I knew it! How dare she hurt what’s mine!” He vamped out completely, rising suddenly and toppling Buffy to the ground. She hit something hard and sharp with a cry. Immediately, Spike bent back down to lift her up, his game face gone. “I’m sorry!” he said quickly, smoothing the area on her rear where she’d been hurt. Instinctively, she moaned at the touch, and he inhaled sharply. “God, Buffy, if we’re going to do this, you can’t smell like that!”

“Smell like what?” she sighed, feeling his tongue swirling around on her neck.

“Wet and ready,” he purred, stroking her closer to the junction between her legs. “In fact…”

“Spike!” She felt the risings of panic. “I can’t! I told you!”

“Alright,” he sighed, moving his hand. “But you don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

“I can guess,” she whispered, laying her head back against his chest. “So what are we going to do about Tara?”

He stroked her hair. “You need to tell her about Willow. She shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I was so worried you’d tell me to just let it go,” she admitted, twisting a stray hair between her fingers. “That’s what Xander and Faith did. And Anya, but she’s still kinda demony.”

Spike snickered. “That she is.” He shook his head. “The rest of them…they don’t really know Tara. They’ve just seen her as Scooby by default. Demon Girl and I were accepted because, well, we’re loud,” he said, a little sheepishly. Buffy grinned. “We make ourselves known, but the White Witch blends into the background. Scoobies don’t see her.”

“At least they could be worried about Willow,” Buffy grumbled. “Am I the only one who thinks she’s one spell away from disaster?”

Spike nodded. “I’m with you there. But Harris and the Slayer trust her. They won’t get involved with her and Tara, no matter what she does.” He kissed the top of her head. “Talk to Tara. Let her know that she might want to set up some wards and the like. Keep our bad witch wannabe from fucking with her again.”

“Alright. I’m on it,” Buffy said, standing up.

“What, now?” Spike mock-whined, stretching out his arms to her.

She grinned impishly. “I’ll be back later, vampire.” She kissed him again, long and deep. “Thank you,” she murmured when they parted. “For everything.”

\--

Tara bent over the keyboard, racking her brain for something else to write. She knew she’d done the research for this assignment, remembered much of what she’d found, but her notes didn’t agree with her memory. Although lately, she’d been forgetting more and more of what she’d been doing. Oh, she knew technically where she’d been, and what she’d been doing. But details kept slipping her mind. Oh, well. Such was the life of a college student.

There was a knock at the door, and Tara frowned. Willow wasn’t coming back until later, and she was pretty sure that no one else would drop by to see _her_. Maybe it was Anya, demanding wedding advice again. She winced. Anya could be a little…overenthusiastic sometimes.

She opened the door, careful not to call out an invite. “Oh! B-Buffy!”

Buffy stood there, her face grim. “I need to talk to you.”

\--

Tara didn’t know what to think. 

Willow was using mind control. On her. Wiping her memory, _raping_ her of her memory. How long had it been going on? How deep had Willow sunk into the darkness?

She loved Willow, she really did. But there were some things that couldn’t be forgiven, no matter how much love there was between them. 

She reached for her book of defensive magic grimly. Willow wasn’t going to get the chance to hurt her again.

“Baby?” The door opened and Willow slipped inside with barely enough time for Tara to slide the book back onto its shelf. “What’s going on?”

“N-nothing really,” Tara said quickly. “I-I’ve been doing s-some schoolwork.”

Willow made a face. “All day? Tara, I’ve told you. If you need a speedy report, I’ve got a spell-“

“N-no!” Tara said quickly. At Willow’s sudden frown, she ducked her head and mumbled, “No spells.” This wasn’t good. Willow couldn’t know what Tara had found out, not until she had the spell she needed to protect herself. “S-sorry,” she murmured, forcing a yawn. “I’m j-just really tired.”

Willow leaned forward, a sudden mischievous grin on her face. “How tired?”

_No, please, not tonight…_ But she couldn’t say no to sex, not now, when she needed to act like everything was normal. Willow would get worried and overprotective, as always, and she’d find out what Tara was up to soon enough. So she let Willow make love to her, her brain churning the whole time with a mixture of disgust and sorrow at the situation.

As soon as Willow had drifted off to sleep, Tara pulled out her book again and hastily put together the spell before she slipped out the door. There were two other people to whom she owed the same. And if Buffy and Spike had cared enough to warn her, they were also in danger if Willow went overboard.

She went to Spike’s crypt first by default. Faith made her nervous; they were just so different that there was no way that they could ever really be friends, and it wasn’t like Faith had ever made any overtures of friendship, either. She’d just accepted Tara into the Scoobies and proceeded to ignore her. But Faith was Willow’s best friend, and if Willow found out that Tara had gone to visit Buffy, things would get even tenser than they already were. 

Luck was on her side, though, when she knocked timidly on Spike’s door and Buffy opened it. The blond slayer turned to raise an eyebrow at Spike. “How’d you know?”

Spike shrugged, smirking at them both from his vantage point on the sarcophagus. “She’s the only one who knocks like that.” He reconsidered. “Or, well, at all.”

Tara surveyed them both with interest. Last she’d heard, Faith had almost staked Spike before returning to the Magic Box to demand answers from Willow, leaving Buffy behind with the vampire. It looked like things might have progressed between the two, though, judging from Buffy’s disheveled appearance and the simultaneously pleased and guilty look on Spike’s face.

She was happy for them, really. Spike was as close to a big brother as she’d ever had- which was made all the more ironic by the fact that she actually had an older brother back at home- and she genuinely liked Buffy, who might not have been as accepting as Faith, but was certainly softer and kinder. If they’d found some happiness together, she would be the last person to object to it.

But it was all the more reason for the two to be protected from Willow’s magic. If Faith found out… “I-I found a spell that should shield you from dark magic.”

“Oh?” Spike sat up interestedly. “Will it be strong enough?”

“It’s a neutral spell,” Tara explained. “It reflects the power of the magic aimed at you and puts up an equal defense. There’s no way that even Willow, a-at her current power level, could overpower something like that.”

Buffy sat down next to Spike, her fingers automatically intertwining with his. Tara wisely kept silent. The less she knew, the better. It was enough that they were happy. “How long does it last?”

Tara shrugged. “Forever, I guess. Until the caster is dead.”

“Perfect.” Buffy gave her a genuine smile. “Thanks for keeping us in mind.”

Tara smiled back. “Mutual.” 

It was nice to have friends who cared about her, she reflected. Friends were a precious commodity. And she’d hang on to these two for a long, long time.


	15. Chapter 15

Willow woke to the scent of magic. Really, did Tara think that she wouldn’t? She was far beyond the other witch’s capabilities, skilled enough that, at the very least, she knew when someone was playing in her sandbox.

For a moment, she wondered if it had just been something innocent, or a surprise for her. It wouldn’t be the first time that Tara had given her a magical gift, or showed her another stride she had made in her magic. But no, this was neutral magic, the sort that was generally used for defensive spells. Tara was up to something.

As if on cue, Tara walked into the room in a bathrobe, toweling off her hair as she entered. “H-hi W-Willow.” Willow frowned at the stutter. That was new. Tara’s stutter had gone away around Willow long before they had even begun their relationship, and suddenly returned after Willow had restored her sanity. And Willow didn’t like it at all. It meant that Tara was uncomfortable, and Willow never wanted that for Tara. She’d sworn after Glory that Tara would never have to suffer again, and she hated the idea that she wasn’t keeping her promise.

“Tara,” she said coolly, her eyes following the shy girl as she dressed quickly, almost as though she was unwilling for Willow to see her naked.

“I-I’ve g-got class in ten m-minutes,” Tara said apologetically. “I-I guess I-I’ll see y-you later?”

“Sure.” Willow stretched back on her bed, her arms propping her up on her side, waiting for her moment. 

The instant Tara’s hand touched the doorknob, she pounced. “So, magic in our room last night? What were you doing?”

_Jackpot._ Tara’s head spun around to stare at her and she gave a little jump of surprise. “What?”

“What were you defending against, exactly, last night?” Willow asked, deceptively calm. “Some new Big Bad? The noisy girls next door?” She waited a moment before she asked the final question. “Me?”

Tara started guiltily. “W-Willow…”

“Why are you doing this, Tara?” Willow said beseechingly. “You know we can’t have lies between us, and hiding and-“

“H-hiding? L-lies?” Tara made a choked sound that might have been a laugh. “Y-yes, instead, l-lets just _erase_ the l-lies! L-let’s make sure that T-Tara n-never has a thought that W-Willow doesn’t approve of!”

Oh. That. God, this was really becoming a pain. She thought that she’d erased that possibility from Tara’s mind last time, in the Magic Box, but no, here it was again. 

Tara wouldn’t understand why Willow was doing this. She’d just see it as a violation, nothing more. But Willow was protecting Tara from anything unpleasant in life, anything negative that her beloved might have to face, and sometimes that had to include Willow, too. 

She reached into her pocket for the ever-present Lethe’s Bramble, murmuring the words of the spell that would restore Tara to her prior happiness, and waited for things to be okay again.

Tara shook her head sadly. “I-It won’t w-work, W-Will. And n-neither will we.” She closed the door quietly, but the click resounded in Willow’s mind like the sound of a gunshot.

\--

Faith turned in the mirror. _Leather, check. Black and red, check. Ultra-exaggerated cleavage, check._ If she was going to win back her man, she’d have to pull out all the stops. Okay, it wasn’t the first time she’d threatened to kill him, but it was definitely the first time she’d meant it, stake and all. Spike wasn’t going to be happy with her.

She sighed. She’d fucked up. She knew it. And maybe she was okay and human, like Willow had assured her over and over again yesterday, but she _had_ had a right to worry. Spike could have been eating people! But maybe she should have had more faith in him. Xander had believed in Spike, and there was a time not so long ago when he’d have jumped at the idea of staking the vampire. She expected more of herself.

And she couldn’t have picked a better time to threaten hers and Spike’s relationship? Now that Slayer 2.0 was in town- bouncy blond, idiot smile Buffy Summers, who Spike stared at like she was the Holy Grail- Faith was replaceable. 

At that thought, she hitched up her skirt a little higher, so that the curve of her ass was more than visible. No way was she going to give Buffy the chance to swoop in.

~

Spike gulped at Faith’s ensemble. “Slayer,” he finally managed. She was dressed to seduce him, that was clear enough. Which meant this wouldn’t end well. _Picture Buffy, picture Buffy, picture Buffy…_ He smiled at the thought of the last night. Buffy had decided to patrol with him, since Faith had work, and they’d fought a pack of vampires together. It had been exhilarating, more so than it had ever been with Faith. Faith was all about brute force and love of the violence, followed by the hunger and horniness that used to make Spike laugh when she’d try to have sex with him while eating a burger. But Buffy… Buffy was something else entirely, graceful and vicious all at once, loving the fight far more than the kill. He remembered the old days fondly, remembered the joy of the fight in those first few months when he’d come to Sunnydale and before the wheelchair. She’d been like a cub back then, feisty and small but already a fighter. Now, though, she was the lioness, stalking her prey instead of letting it come to her, never showing fear or hesitation… _beautiful_. He couldn’t wait until he could knock down the bloody walls Angelus had built around her and dance with her in the way he dreamed of.

Faith scowled at him. “Are you even paying attention to me?”

“What’s that, love?” Spike asked, frowning. He’d managed to distract himself from Faith’s attire, and now his hard-on was for something else entirely. Faith was smoking, sure. But she wasn’t Buffy.

As soon as she saw that she had his attention, Faith sidled up to him. “I’m trying to…apologize,” she said in a sultry voice, cupping his crotch with her hands.

He jerked away as if he’d been burned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said evenly, priding himself in the way his voice didn’t shake. There were few men alive who could resist Faith. And he planned to be one of them.

“Come on, Spike, I know you’re mad, but we can move past this!” Faith said, annoyed. “I forgave you when you sold us out to Adam, and when you almost fed Dawn to Dru…”

Spike felt a pang of guilt. He’d been through a lot with Faith, and even if he wasn’t in love with her, he did care deeply about her. He knew that apologizing didn’t come easily to her, and it wasn’t right that he just ignore it.

“I know,” he conceded. “I don’t blame you for last night…although you could have had a little faith in me!” he added swiftly, then groaned inwardly at the inadvertent pun.

Faith’s eyes glittered in amusement. “And you could have a little Spike in me, too, so what are you waiting for?”

“Oi! Little?” 

Faith smirked. “Okay, big, big Spike in me.” She stretched expansively, letting Spike see very clearly that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I’m waiting.”

Spike turned away, berating himself. He was a bloody saint for resisting this, and yet he’d never get any credit from Buffy. Because she was never going to find out about this. She was insecure enough without knowing that her new vampire was getting visits from Faith wearing practically nothing.

Oh, yeah. He was definitely hers.

“Spike?” The pretense was gone, and now it was just plain Faith, not the seductress, who moved back into his line of sight. He felt a shudder of distaste at her outfit, finally realizing just how tacky it was. Buffy would never demean herself by wearing something like that in public. She was better than that. And really, so was Faith.

He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, now confident that he could touch her without becoming crazed with lust. “You’re better than this, Faith.”

Her expression darkened as she processed just what he meant and what he wasn’t going to do. “Screw you,” she spat, and stalked off.

He breathed a sigh of relief and settled back into his armchair, unzipping his pants and envisioning Buffy fighting him in his mind’s eye.

\--

“Life sucks,” Faith grumbled, sinking down in the seat opposite Willow’s in the corner of the Espresso Pump. 

Willow sighed. “Tell me about it. I’ve tried everything in the book, and nothing’s worked. Tara hasn’t even come back yet.”

“Tara’s gone?” Faith asked, frowning.

“I just wanted to protect her!” Willow growled, slamming her fist on the table. “And I have no idea how it all backfired. How could she have possibly known what I was doing? I was so careful!”

“It’s all Buffy’s fault,” Faith mumbled, tugging her skirt down a little more. It kept riding up and giving everyone in the shop a view of far too much of her. No one got to see that except Spike. There was a time when she would have laughed at the idea of monogamy, but Spike had been everything she’d needed and she’d never needed to bother with anyone else. Why did he have to be so difficult now?

“Buffy?” Willow’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”  
_  
I mean that she’s stealing away my man, and she’s going to pay._ Faith shrugged nonchalantly. “We were in the Magic Box during your last breakup. She was pretty gung-ho about telling Tara about what you were doing.”

“That bitch!” Willow practically snarled. “I should have known. She comes into town and ruins everything!”

“Tell me about it,” Faith agreed. It was refreshing to spend time with someone else who didn’t think the sun shone out of Buffy’s ass. Even Dawn had joined the Buffy-loving train, that traitor. She tried to hide it, but Faith had walked in on one too many movie nights to suspect that Dawn actually _liked_ hanging out with Buffy.

“We have to get rid of her,” Willow said suddenly. “She’s a liability.”

“You mean like make her leave town?” Faith asked, grinning at the idea. “Think we can pull it off?”

“Leave town?” Willow laughed. “Yeah, right. You know what we do with liabilities.”

A chill ran down Faith’s spine. Willow couldn’t possibly mean what she thought she meant… 

She remembered another time when it had just been her and Willow, discussing their last liability. Glory’s defenses had been failing and they’d finally realized that Ben and Glory were the same. Dawn had been in danger, and the two girls had seen no other choice.

“We decided that Ben had to die because he was a danger to us.” Willow echoed Faith’s thoughts with a shake of the head. “And Buffy’s causing far too much trouble, too.”

Faith laughed nervously. “Don’t you think you’re taking this whole magic-power-vendetta thing a little too seriously?” She knew where Willow’s irrational hate was coming from, Willow had explained as much to her, but this was pushing it. “It’s not like we actually _killed_ Ben in the end.” Willow didn’t move, and Faith was suddenly uncertain. “Right?”

Willow shrugged. “If we had succeeded in closing the portal, which we did, Glory wouldn’t have let it rest. She would have targeted us each, one by one, and made us suffer. I did what had to be done.”

Faith was stunned. “You didn’t.” Talking about it was one thing. But murder? Actually killing a defenseless person? That was something completely different. You didn’t just come back from it!

“Of course I did,” Willow said with a confidence that Faith saw through instantly. Sometimes, Willow still reverted to the nervous follower who needed her best friend’s approval. Something that Faith wouldn’t- _couldn’t_\- give this time. Willow scowled at Faith’s uncertainty. “Well, it’s not like I was the first one to kill someone. And yours was innocent!”

“Don’t,” Faith said tiredly. She’d confessed the accidental murder to Willow years ago, when she’d been unable to pretend anymore. That Willow had been horrified and not even close to supportive, and it had taken hours before she’d finally agreed not to go to Giles. This Willow, however, was going to use Faith’s greatest sin against her. “We both know that that shouldn’t have happened. And I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

“Whatever,” Willow said dismissively, and Faith had to choke back her anger at Willow’s uncaring. “I’m just saying that maybe Buffy has to go.”

“No!” Faith was adamant about that. “No more killing. Let’s just get Buffy to leave town.”

“So she can come back in another few years and destroy everything again?” Willow demanded. “Or so that Spike can follow her away and we can lose him, too?”

Faith winced at that. Willow was really pulling out all the stops. “I’m just saying, there must be a way to isolate her again. Even make her _want_ to leave. Without Spike,” she added hastily.

Willow’s eyes lit up. “I have an idea. Just give me a day or two to do the research…” She shook her head. “I’ve only done this once before, but it should be much easier this time, since I know where to go and there’s no actual res-“

“Will?” Faith asked curiously. At least she wasn’t still focused on killing Buffy, but she had a shine to her eyes that made Faith worry. 

Willow grinned. “I’m on it.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Psst! Buffy!”

The whisper came from somewhere just outside her window. Buffy ran to open it. “Spike? How’d you get here?”

He grinned up at her from where he was hanging from the edge of the window with one hand. “Shimmied over from the Bit’s tree. Was nothing, really.”

“That tree barely touches Dawn’s window! How long did it take you?” With Slayer strength, she heaved him up and into the room.

“Too long,” Spike murmured before he devoured her lips with his, tackling her to her bed.

She laughed breathlessly, pulling him closer. “You know, you could have just come in through the front door. Faith’s not even back yet.” Their trysts over the past week had been frequent and in his crypt, but they made sure not to be seen together there when Faith was on patrol. There was no need to make the frustrated slayer even more annoyed. 

Spike shrugged. “No need to traumatize the Bit more than necessary, or put her in a bad situation,” he reminded her, running soft fingers over the small of her back. “Slayer is out pretty late tonight, though. New baddie I missed?”

Buffy shook her head, gasping as Spike nipped and sucked at her neck with blunt human teeth. “Three nerds, if you can believe that,” she managed, clutching at his hair as his mouth moved lower. “Faith caught them at her salon. They were invisible, but they wouldn’t shut up, so she caught them trying to- oh!” He’d unbuttoned her blouse and seized a nipple in his mouth. “Spike!”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was reminding herself that she didn’t want this, but it felt so wonderful and she wasn’t quite ready for it to stop…

“Buffy?” The banging on the door snapped Buffy back to herself.

“Dawn!” she hissed, shoving Spike into the closet and hastily buttoning her blouse. She yanked open the door. “Hey, Dawnie, what’s doing?”

“I heard a noise,” Dawn said, her arms crossed and her foot tapping against the doorpost. “You were screaming something. It sounded like…” She studied Buffy critically. “It sounded like you were saying, ‘Spike.’”

Buffy laughed nervously. “Well, I was…uh…having a dream.”

“About Spike?” Dawn’s eyes narrowed.

“He is a hottie, huh?” Buffy looked at Dawn hopefully. 

Dawn wrinkled her nose. “Ew, he’s like my _brother_! But yeah, he is,” she conceded. “Just remember that he’s Faith’s. So hands off.” She headed for her room, stopping midway to turn back to Buffy. “And by the way? Your buttons are all wrong.”

Buffy flushed, closing the door and locking it securely before she opened the closet door. Spike was waiting for her, dangling a pair of men’s boxers from his finger. “Something you want to share?”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “That you apparently have a strange fascination with Giles’s underwear? No, I think I’d prefer not to discuss that.”

Spike dropped it hastily and pulled Buffy back to him. “So, having dreams about me?” he purred.

“You wish,” Buffy mumbled, reddening. 

“Mmm.” Spike moved back to her buttons. “I do.”

“Wait!” Buffy grabbed his hand before it went too far. “I can’t…I don’t want to…”

Spike dropped his hand reluctantly. “You know, there are other ways I could get you off, pet. Ways in which I won’t lose my nonexistent soul.”

“Spike…” Buffy sighed. “I can’t.”

“No,” he objected, turning to the window. “You won’t. There’s a difference.”

“Fine!” Buffy threw up her hands. “Go back to Faith, then, if that’s all you want!”

He turned and seized her roughly, backing her up against a wall. “This isn’t about sex, Buffy. It’s about trust. It’s about you not trusting me with yourself, and pushing me away.”

“Please, like you’re one to talk?” Buffy snapped. “Your last girlfriend trusted you so much that she tried to kill you last week!”

Spike’s eyes darkened. “I’m not Angel, and you’re not that innocent little virgin anymore. It’s time to face that.” He spun around and climbed out the window without so much as a goodbye. 

Buffy watched him go, clenching her jaw in annoyance. She was over Angel. Why was that so hard for Spike to accept?

\--

Warren scowled. “Well, this is just useless!” he snapped, hurling the Inviso-Ray to the ground.

“Hey, watch it,” Andrew moaned, cradling the clay Darth Vader he’d constructed in third grade close to him. “You’re gonna ruin stuff.”

“Not to mention the priceless diamond we stole,” Jonathan noted, frowning at the shattered pieces that surrounded it. “We’re not getting that Nobel Prize, are we?”

Warren spun around to glare at him. “The Slayer now knows our identities _and_ destroyed our gun, and you’re worried about _awards_? We’re screwed!”

“Unless…” Jonathan moved to his computer, clicking on an icon marked “SLAYER PR0N! XXX” and called up their most recent images of Buffy and Spike. “We’ve still got these.”

“You want to turn Spike and Buffy into our sex slaves?” Andrew asked hopefully, tossing a furtive glance at their newest project.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Warren said drily, leaning over Jonathan’s shoulder. “No, I think it’s time we unleashed Faith and Buffy on each other. And this should do it.” He clicked PRINT.

\--

“Tara, don’t go!” Willow pleaded. “We can still work things out. I haven’t used magic on you all week!”

“I-I haven’t b-been around all week,” Tara retorted, packing t-shirts into a box. She hadn’t planned on officially leaving their dorm room so soon, but her other friend in the dorms had had an emergency visit from her sister and no longer had space for Tara, too. “A-and I w-warded against y-your magic!” And what magic it had been! Tara hadn’t sensed how strong it was from afar, but now that she was in their room, she could smell the pervasive odor poisoning her nostrils, making the witch in her want to curl up and hide. Dark magic had been done in the room, darker, fouler magic than even what Willow had used to resurrect Faith. The air tasted like Hell itself. 

At least Willow’s best hadn’t broken through the wards. Spike had confirmed as much when she’d gone to see him. They were all safe. So far.

“Tara.” There were actual tears in Willow’s eyes, and they were greener than Tara had seen in a long time. She sank to the ground, wrapping her arms around Tara’s legs and resting her head against her front. “Please, give me another chance! I’ll die without you!”

Tara slid down to face Willow, cupping her face in her hands, and gave her a soft, chaste kiss. “I loved you,” she said gently. “But not like this.” She exited the room, leaving Willow sobbing on the floor.

~

“I’m sorry,” Faith said stiffly. “But you can’t expect me to say yes. Willow’s my best friend.”

“I-it would j-just be for a d-day or two,” Tara stuttered. “U-until my friend’s s-sister leaves. I-I’d be in the b-basement, n-not a bother at all.”

“It’s bad enough that I’m living with _Buffy_,” Faith spat out the name. “I don’t need another person Will’s not going to want to be around.” 

Tara had the feeling that Willow wouldn’t be as unwilling to see her as Faith suspected, but she didn’t have the energy- okay, or the courage- to fight the other girl. It was just a pipe dream, anyway, living with Buffy and Dawnie for a few days. She hadn’t thought that it would pan out.

She wondered if Anya still had her old apartment, and if she’d let Tara stay there for a few days free of charge.

Nah. 

She should probably stop at the bank before she went to see the ex-demon.

\--

“How about red?” the girl in question asked, studying herself in the mirror. “Try red,” she ordered the hairstylist. The woman immediately pulled out the reddish hair dyes for Anya to peruse.

Buffy watched, bemused. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up here, helping Anya pick the right hairstyle for her wedding. One second she’d been at the Magic Box to do some afternoon training, the next she was being dragged across town to act as entourage to the soon-to-be bride. “How about this one?” she suggested, holding out a bottle featuring a bright orange-red color. 

Anya shook her head. “That’s Willow’s color. As the bride, I need to stand out. People have to pay attention to me.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Willow’s hair’s a bit darker these days,” Buffy noted dryly. “I don’t think you’re at much risk of matching.”

Anya pulled her hair out of its current updo, running her fingers through it to give it a soft curl. “Yes, but Tara’s leaving will probably ruin _that_,” she said crossly, eyeballing Buffy. “This is all your fault.”

“How is your hair crisis my fault?” Buffy wondered, nixing a more artificial red. “Never mind, I’m sure it is.” A thought occurred to her. “How did you know that I told her?”

“Everyone knows.” Anya snatched the bottle from Buffy, putting a few strands of hair next to it to judge the colors. “You’re very obvious about these things.”

“Things? There are things now?” Buffy asked skeptically.

“Oh, of course.” Anya spun around to beckon to the hairstylist. “How about this one? Brings out my eyes, don’t you think? You’re in love with Spike.”

“What? No, I’m not!” Buffy said hastily.

Anya wrinkled her brow. “Never mind, I’ll look like a carrot. Show me the browns. Why aren’t you helping, Buffy?”

Buffy stared at her, taking the dyes reluctantly. “I’m kind of thrown by the whole me-being-in-love-with-Spike theory.” She picked off a dark brown and gave it to Anya.

“Oh, that.” Anya waved her hand. “It’s natural for feelings to emerge when you’re sleeping with a man. That’s how Xander and I fell in love.”

“Sleeping with…?” Buffy tried to summon up the incredulity she should be showing, sighed, and gave up. “How long have you known?”

Anya shrugged. “Days. Well, Xander thinks that it’s been going on for weeks, but you still seem oddly unsatisfied for someone who’s sleeping with Spike. I know that he’s quite good. Faith and I chat about our sex lives all the time.”

“I’m not actually…we’re not…” Buffy toyed with a bottle of hair dye. “You know.” It was strange, but of all the people she could speak to about this, Anya seemed most natural. She was refreshingly frank, the blunt one among all the pretense and lies that surrounded the rest of the group. She was open enough that Buffy felt like she could say anything without being judged.

Plus, she _liked_ talking about sex.

“I can’t imagine why not,” Anya said, frowning. “I know that Faith isn’t sleeping with him anymore, so he’s definitely free.”

Buffy blinked at Anya, sudden worry pervading her thoughts. “You’re not going to say anything to Faith, are you?” Anya didn’t exactly have a big mouth, per se, but she did say what was on her mind when she deemed it appropriate. Which, of course, wasn’t usually very appropriate.

Anya shook her head. “Xander says that we should just pretend that we know nothing. I think that’s the best plan. Plus, it must make things hotter when you keep them a secret!” she said brightly.

“A little,” Buffy admitted. She looked down. “You must think I’m a total slut.”

“Why?” Anya cocked her head in confusion. “You love Spike, and you’re not even sleeping with him. That’s closer to frigid nun than slut.”

“Wow. Thanks for that,” Buffy said sarcastically. Anya continued to stare at her patiently. “Um. I have feelings for Spike, but I don’t exactly love him. He’s just really great. And I don’t sleep with anyone.”

“Because of your other vampire boyfriend who lost his soul and then mocked your sexual prowess and then tried to end the world?” Anya asked curiously. At Buffy’s disbelieving look, she explained, “Spike and Xander used to talk about you a lot.”

“Oh. Okay.” Buffy was feeling a little dazed. It might have been all the hair dye. Or it might have just been Anya. “Spike says I have trust issues.”

“That’s understandable. Stop that! I look awful!” Anya snapped at the stylist. She jumped back, giving Anya a dirty look, and lowered the wheels of the chair to push Anya to the sink. “If every guy you’ve slept with goes evil, of course you want to make sure that you really trust this one first. And you’re clearly not over what happened last time.”

“I’m over Angel!” Buffy protested. How many times did she have to say it? Why didn’t anyone believe her?

_Because I might be over Angel, but I’m not quite over what he did to me, _she understood suddenly. God, she was such an idiot! She’d finally found someone perfect for her, and she was pushing him away because of stupid old insecurities. She couldn’t lose Spike, and it wasn’t fair to either of them that she kept holding back. It was time to learn to trust again.

“I’ve got to go!” she announced, fueled with energy at her sudden epiphany.

“But what about the blonds?” Anya asked pitifully from where the hairstylist was scrubbing at her scalp with almost savage pleasure.

Buffy shoved the closest bottle into her hand. “Try this. You’ll look great in it.” She glanced at it. It was a floral-scented shampoo. Oh, well. You couldn’t win them all.

“Happy orgasms!” Anya called after her, trying to pull away from her stylist with little success. 

She broke into a run as soon as she left the shop. Restfield cemetery was just around the corner, and buoyed by excitement, she barely noticed the tombstones and mausoleums as she wove through the cemetery. She was a girl on a mission, and she wouldn’t stop until she’d fixed things.

She flung open the door to the crypt with a bang, launching herself into Spike’s arms as soon as he stood. “Buffy?”

“Show me,” she said breathlessly. “Show me how to share myself with you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked tentatively, even as his eyes widened with awe and his hands moved to tug at her pants. 

She kissed him hard, letting her hands rove up and down his bare chest and her body mold itself to his. “Positive.”

\--

Faith slammed the door shut, her arms full of mail that Buffy and Dawn hadn’t bothered to take in all day. Where _were_ they, anyway?

It was probably best that they weren’t around, though. She planned to take a nice, long nap before patrol, and hopefully forget Willow’s newest plot. She was pretty sure that Willow was tampering with magics she shouldn’t be touching, and all that talk of portals and dimensions brought to mind Glory, and then Ben’s death, and then her own death, and then the utter hopelessness that she felt whenever she thought of heaven. She wasn’t ready for eternal peace. 

What kind of life did she lead that she dreaded what came after death far more than death itself?

She dropped the mail on the table, lost in thought, not noticing the unmarked package that had come with the rest of the letters. She had heavier things on her mind.

Willow. Buffy. Spike. Tara. Her own mortality. And whatever was coming next.


	17. Chapter 17

Buffy snuggled deeper into Spike’s embrace, nuzzling his cool chest as she yawned her way into wakefulness.

He eyes shot open. _I slept with Spike!_ she remembered suddenly. _Oh, god, I slept with Spike! Talk about being spontaneous…_

“Morning, love,” he said sleepily, pulling her closer. 

“I really am a slut,” she moaned, burying her face in his chest. “I just…jumped you, out of nowhere, and practically forced myself on you!”

“Not how I remember it, pet,” he said, laughing softly. “I rather enjoyed it.”

She looked up at him hopefully. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he confirmed. 

“I wasn’t…bad?” She let go of him, squirming out of his arms.

He lowered his lips to kiss the junction between her neck and shoulder. “You were perfect. So raw…so much energy… I used to watch you fight and imagine you like that in my bed, and you surpassed even my wildest dreams.”

Buffy flushed, unused to speaking so freely. “Because I thought that- I mean, the last person I was with- he said that I was-“

Spike sat up, his eyes flashing. “No. Angelus was a wanker,” he growled. “I swear, if he wasn’t dead already-”

She stopped him with a kiss. “Don’t bring him into this,” she said softly, cupping his cheek. “Just be with me.”

\--

She had crept into the house just after seven, tiptoeing through the foyer and heading for the stairs, when she came face-to-face with a very displeased-looking Dawn.

“Hi!” Buffy forced a grin. “You’re up early!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Dawn said curtly. She looked awful. She was paler than usual, her eyes had dark circles around them, and her hands were shaking at her sides where one was clutching onto a dark manila envelope. “Where were you?”

“Demon-fighting,” Buffy offered quickly, trying to move past the younger girl.

“All night.” Dawn didn’t budge. 

“Yeah!” Buffy nodded enthusiastically. “There was a…big, gross demon, and he was really dangerous and demony, so I had to...” Dawn seemed unconvinced, so she quickly changed tacks. “Why? Did you miss me?” she teased.

Dawn handed her the manila envelope expressionlessly. Buffy opened it, pulling out a pile of photographs, and glanced at the first one.  
_  
Oh, no.   
_  
She flipped through the pile, her worst fears confirmed. They were all shots of her and Spike in his crypt in various intimate positions. There were none from the night before, thankfully, but some of them were borderline pornographic. All were from the same angle, and all were completely incriminating. “What is this?” she demanded of Dawn.

“Oh, you’re asking _me_ questions? What right do you have to do that?” Dawn snapped back. “I _trusted_ you! I was nice to you when no one else would be! I thought that you were a good person, and this is what you do? Steal away my sister’s boyfriend?”

“They broke up,” Buffy said finally, feeling suddenly ashamed. Before now, there had only been the slightest bit of guilt at the idea of being with Spike, but now, seeing Faith’s sister disillusioned and hurt, she was beginning to realize that this wasn’t just about Faith, Spike, and Buffy. This was everyone, and what would happen between the Scoobies if the truth got out.

“Please!” Dawn snorted, her eyes watering up. “They’ve been together for years! And you just swoop in and take him away? Faith was right about you! When she finds out-“

“No!” Buffy nearly screamed. She shot a look upstairs warily. “No,” she repeated quietly. “At least give us some time. It won’t hurt your sister nearly as much if you wait a month or two,” she wheedled. “Put yourself in her shoes. Would she want to know this now?”

Dawn stopped. “No,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Thank you, Dawnie,” Buffy said gently.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that!” she spat. “You’re not my friend. You or Spike. You’re a bitch.” She spun on her heel and headed into the kitchen. 

Buffy climbed upstairs and sank down onto her bed wearily. _I really am a horrible person._ It had been so easy, when she and Spike had been apart, to hate Faith for having what Buffy had wanted desperately. But now that she was in Faith’s prior position, she was just as bad. Worse, even, because she had taken something from Faith. Something Faith wanted back.  
_  
She tried to kill him,_ she reminded herself.   
_  
But wouldn’t I have done the same?_

_She doesn’t love him._

_Neither do I. I think._

_Spike chose me.  
_  
Her conscience had no answer to that one, so she finally let herself move on to other matters. Most importantly, the pictures she now held. Where had they come from? Who would be trying to unleash Faith on Buffy and Spike? Willow, maybe. But she wouldn’t bother being that discreet about it. She’d have just told Faith and enjoyed the show.   
_  
Wait a minute…_ She flipped back through the photos, frowning at the angles at which they’d been taken. There were only two different angles, really, and another for the downstairs level. Which probably meant a few hidden cameras in the crypt. Huh. She’d go back there at dusk and talk it over with Spike.

But for now, she needed a nice, long shower.

\--

Spike frowned, craning his neck to face in the exact direction of the photo he held. He backed up a few steps into the wall, reaching over to yank the second camera out from a long crack in the wall. “You are going to pay for this,” he warned the lens in full game face before he hurled the camera at the opposite wall, smashing it into pieces.

Buffy looked up from where she was banging a stone against the other camera. “So what do you think? Who’s doing this?”

Spike shrugged. “That depends. Are they just watching my place? Because there are some pretty nasty demons who’d love to put me on the outs with the slayer. But if they’re watching your place, too, or the Magic Box, then I’d wager on it being those nerds you were talking about yesterday.”

“With the invisibility ray?” Buffy said doubtfully. “You think they could pull off something like that?”

“Not just an invisibility ray, pet,” Spike corrected. “Slayer also had some trouble a while back with a little gadget that altered time. That might’ve been them, too. Fits the profile.”

“I guess,” Buffy conceded, eyeing the smashed camera. “I just can’t imagine that Jonathan Levinson was able to do anything this elaborate.”

“Jonathan?” Spike frowned. “Snack-sized, dark hair, starred in The Matrix?”

“Yes, yes, no?” Buffy furrowed her brow in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you know him!”

Spike nodded. “Was a while back. He did some magic that made us all think that he was best at everything. Some sort of superstar spell.”

“The whole Sunnydale?” Buffy laughed. “Get out!” The one image she had of Jonathan was him trying desperately to fade into the background when the jocks walked past. It was hard to believe that he could do something that large-scale. 

She was suddenly assailed with the memory of Willow, backing away from the popular girls in an attempt to avoid their attentions. _I guess you never know…_

“Who were the other nerds?” Spike wondered. “Did Faith say?”

“Um.” Buffy bit her lip. “I can’t remember one’s name, but Faith said that he was Tucker’s brother, whatever that means. And the third guy was named Warner, I think.”

“Warren?”

“That’s the one.”

“Bugger.” Spike stomped on the camera with the toe of his boot. “He built a sexbot. ‘M sure he could rig a few cameras to stalk us.”

“And now they’re trying to turn Faith against us,” Buffy concluded. “Not that she needs any help, in my case.” She picked up the pictures again, raising her eyebrows when she noticed that the smuttiest ones were missing. Spike leered. Buffy flushed. “They do have footage of the two of us…you know…now,” she reminded him, making a face. “Wait, do you think that they _watch_ it?”

“Probably.” Spike shrugged. “Remember, this guy did it with a _robot_. He’d probably do anything for a good wank.”

“Oh, god.” Buffy stumbled to the door. “I have to…do something, kill someone, puke, I’m not really sure.”

“Buffy,” Spike called after her, but he sounded more amused than concerned.

She ran, far from the cameras, and prayed that the nerds weren’t monitoring the whole cemetery, too. Who knew what they could do?  
_  
From practically virgin to porn star in one night. What a life I lead. _She stopped short, hearing a sudden screech somewhere to her left, and raced off in that direction.

There was a crowd of demons, chasing a girl through the cemetery…

And then there was nothing. _Huh?_

And then there was a flash of demons again, and a girl was lying on the floor.

And then there was nothing, just Spike approaching in the distance, calling out her name.

And then there were demons.

Then Spike-

-Then demons-

-Then the girl-

-Then demons-

-Spike-

-Girl-

-Demons-

-Spike-

-Demons-

-Girl-

-Girl-  
_  
Girl!  
_  
Girl, on the ground, unconscious from Buffy’s accidental attack. 

No. 

She was dead.

\--  
_  
I killed her. I killed her. I killed her.  
_  
She sat up abruptly, panting. _Oh, god, it was real. Not a dream. I killed her. I killed her. I killed-_

“B?” Faith pushed open the door, looking more than a little annoyed. “Where have you been? You were supposed to patrol tonight. I had to stake like six fledglings on my way home.”

“I killed her,” Buffy said blankly.

Faith stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I- a girl. In Restfield. I was trying to save her. I killed her.” It all came out in a rush, and her eyes widened in horror as it sank in. “I killed her!”

Faith gaped at her. “You killed someone?”

Buffy pulled her jacket back on. “I shouldn’t have left. I need to go.”

“Go? Go where?” Faith demanded, following her out of her room. “Buffy!”

“I killed her!” Buffy snapped back. “I have to go to the police. Turn myself in.”

“Wait one damned second!” Faith grabbed her arm. “That’s not how this works. You can’t go to the cops. What good would that do?”

Buffy yanked her arm out of Faith’s grasp, heading down the stairs and out the door. “What do you care? You want me gone anyway. Well, congratulations! You win! The murderer is going to go to jail!”

Faith kept up with her as she sped down the street. “Don’t be an idiot, B. You don’t want to do this.”

Buffy spun around so quickly that only Faith’s slayer reflexes kept the other girl from smashing into her. “A girl _died_ because of me, Faith.”

“And how many more live because of you?” Faith retorted.

Buffy turned back, quickening her pace even more in the vain hope of leaving Faith behind. “It doesn’t go like that.”

“Look, I’m the first to support you leaving town,” Faith conceded. “But not like this! What good would you do in prison? The only way that you could possibly make up for killing someone is by using your abilities to save lives, and do some good! Not locked up and useless!”

“Know that from experience, Faith?” Buffy shot back, taking savage pleasure in the way that Faith froze. She took advantage of the other slayer’s shock to race to the police station, leaving Faith far behind.

Faith finally caught up to her when she’d reached the station. “You know nothing about that,” she panted, gasping for breath.

Buffy folded her arms. “Let’s see. You killed a man in your senior year and decided to keep it a secret. Guess what? Everyone knew!”

“Who told you that?” Faith demanded.

“Does it matter?” Buffy reached for the door. “Just because you’re too weak to own up to what you did doesn’t mean that we all have to follow your example.”

“Don’t go in there,” Faith warned her.

“Stop me.”

Faith grinned an unfriendly smile. “Oh, I was so hoping you’d say that.” She let loose with a truly impressive right hook that slammed Buffy across the front of the building and into the alley beside it.

Buffy rose, rubbing her jaw. “Bad move, _F_.” She swung her own fist at the other girl.

Faith caught her wrist and twisted, sending a sharp bolt of pain up Buffy’s arm and making her grunt in agony. She twisted her entire body with her wrist, kicking outwards as she turned and connecting with Faith’s stomach, sending her flying.

Back and forth they fought, exchanging blows that extended far beyond this particular conflict. Their battle was bitter and untamed, vicious and uncontrolled, neither girl holding back and neither girl giving an inch. While the last time they’d fought, Buffy had been the one with the raw power and Faith the one with the skills, now Buffy was nearly as skilled and Faith was equally powerful. The two were evenly matched. It was a battle of hate, and yet, it was still more exhilarating than almost anything Buffy had ever done.

Faith swung Buffy by one leg, spinning to give her more force when she threw her counterpart. Buffy dropped to the ground and jumped back up, remembering what Giles had once told her. Remembering that when it came down to a battle between the slayers, he saw her as the victor. It gave her added strength and confidence, just a bit more than Faith would ever have. She could win this and do what was right. She had to.

With one last blow, she knocked Faith’s head against the concrete for long enough to temporarily stun her and staggered into the station.

She waited by the front counter, ignoring the looks she was getting at her bruised and bloodied state, and sighed with exasperation when Faith doggedly followed her in moments later.

“B…” Faith said warningly.

“Go away, Faith,” Buffy muttered. “It’s too late now.”

The man behind the counter held up a hand. “I’ll be with you in a minute.” He picked up the phone. “Sunnydale PD. You got an ID on that body yet?” The two girls stilled, staring at each other with a sort of hopelessness as the man moved to write it down. “Katrina…Silber…” he repeated. “S, I, L, B-“

“B!” Faith echoed in sudden realization, grabbing her arm.

“Will you give it up already?” Buffy demanded, whirling on the girl.

“She’s Warren’s girlfriend,” Faith responded, grinning, her eyes alight with relief.

“Warren’s…” Buffy inhaled sharply. “Then…” Time changing, demons coming and going, the whole big confusion that was the encounter… 

Faith smiled at her, not unkindly. “Let’s get out of here.” 

They walked back home in silence, side by side and hanging onto each other for support, their faces and bodies mangled messes of what they had been before. Dawn took one look at them and folded her arms. “Who started it?” She was glaring at Buffy, and Buffy prayed that she wouldn’t jump to conclusions and let their secret slip.

Faith gave her sister a cocky smirk. “We tripped.”

“Together?” Dawn threw her hands up into the air. “I am sick and tired of these lame excuses!”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, D?” Faith said archly, a smile still tugging at her lips.

“Whatever. I’d rather be in bed than hang out with you two!” She stalked upstairs, ignoring her housemates’ bemusement.

Buffy finally turned to Faith. “Why?”

She didn’t have to clarify. Faith understood the question. She shrugged. “Hey, when it’s just the two of us, we can kick each other’s asses all we want. But when it’s us against the world? We’ve gotta stick together. We’re an endangered species, you know?”

“Three and counting,” Buffy noted.

“Not that this changes _anything_,” Faith warned her.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Buffy agreed.

Faith eyed her wound. “Those look terrible. You want me to wrap them up?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be fine. You want some help with yours?”

Faith laughed. “Please, these? They’ll be gone in an hour.”

They eyeballed each other for a while, then made a mad dash for the shower.

\--

Across town, Willow Rosenberg had done it again. 

She grinned smugly. This time had been far easier than the last time she’d played with these magics. For one thing, she hadn’t needed to call to the gods at all. It had just taken a little manipulation of the magics already at work in the building, and a cross-dimensional locator-transporter spell she’d managed to put together, and she’d been able to whip up the one thing that would convince Buffy to isolate herself completely from the Scoobies.

She leaned back against the wall, satisfied. “I’d say this was some of my best work.

“What do you think, Angel?”


	18. Chapter 18

Willow held the blood out to her ward absently, her mind on other matters. She’d only thought about bringing Angel back, and hadn’t focused at all on what would happen next. Her guess was that time moved much faster in the hell dimension where he’d been, long enough to turn him feral. Now he was just another thing to take care of.

_Not that there’s much else to do these days,_ she thought resentfully. Tara was being surprisingly stubborn about their breakup. She’d even paid Anya rent and was living in her apartment so that she wouldn’t have to see Willow, and Willow was almost positive that she’d started calling the Magic Box before coming to ensure that she wasn’t around. And every time Willow had tried to touch her mind, she’d been repelled by an equally powerful magical force. The same thing had happened when she’d tried to vent out her frustrations with a nasty hex or thousand on Buffy, and she seethed at the idea of Tara and Buffy plotting together behind her back.

Oh, well. If she knew one thing that had never failed making Buffy miserable, it was Angelus. And regardless of whether or not this monster was that one, it would certainly make Buffy go away. She was nearly finished with the potion that should restore Angel’s mind. All she needed was nightshade harvested at midnight on the fifteenth of the lunar month, and it would be the full moon tomorrow.

Buffy was going down.

\--

Buffy was going up. “Are you sure about this?” she hissed, craning her neck downward to check how her partner in crime was doing.

“Relax, B, I’m going to take good care of you.” Faith smirked up at her, gripping one of Buffy’s ankles with each hand unconcernedly. 

“Why is that not reassuring?” Buffy said sardonically, stiffening her legs to try to steady herself.

Faith grinned. “Ready?” She glanced upwards and did a double-take, nearly dropping Buffy. “Wow, B! Really? I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you!”

“Last time I wear a skirt on patrol,” Buffy muttered, rolling her eyes. So much for her surprise for Spike. Suddenly, she was very red.

Faith steadied her, her eyebrows still waggling suggestively. Buffy forced herself not to use her perfectly placed feet to give Faith a little impromptu nose job.

“Hey, I’ve got a better idea!” she said brightly. “Why don’t _I_ throw _you_ into a second-story window instead?”

“I _am_ the B and E expert of the two of us,” Faith conceded. “But I’m also taller than you.”

“By like an inch!” Buffy protested.

“Get ready!” Faith ordered, ignoring her objections, and hurled her upward and forward. Buffy flew through the air, grabbing onto the edge of Jonathan’s window with the tips of her fingers, using her momentum to kick off the edge of the house to flip backward and land, crouching, in the open window space. 

She yanked up the screen and shot Faith a grin. “I’m in.”

This newfound camaraderie between them was even more freeing than she’d imagined. United by their desire to destroy the nerd trio, Faith and Buffy had grudgingly begun to work together, regardless of how much they disliked each other. And two slayers? Certainly more effective than one.  
_  
Although truth be told, Spike could have thrown me, too. Not that we would’ve gotten that far if he’d looked up my skirt..._ She grinned at the thought.

“How’s it going?” Faith asked in a normal voice that Buffy heard clearly with her enhanced senses. 

“I’m looking,” she responded, hurrying over to Jonathan’s desk. It was surprisingly pristine. She’d always sort of imagined that he’d be one of those guys whose floors you couldn’t find until you dug through the rubble. But there was disappointingly nothing incriminating in his room. No journal that she could find, no written down address of his lair, no taped confession to killing a girl. She sighed in frustration.

“Hit redial on his phone,” Faith suggested from below. 

She looked around the room for a phone. “He doesn’t even have a phone in his room!” she groaned in sheer frustration. “How lame is that? I practically lived in a cardboard box and I had a phone!”

“Let’s try something else,” Faith decided. “Come on down.” 

She fell hard, somersaulting on the ground and landing on her feet. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come on.” Faith led the way to the front door, ringing the doorbell and waiting patiently.

A pretty middle-aged woman opened the door, smiling kindly at them. “Can I help you?”

“Is Jonathan home?” Faith asked in a voice so mock-sweet that Buffy almost gagged.

The woman gaped at them. “Jonathan _Levinson_?” she asked carefully. Buffy smothered a laugh.

“Yep,” Faith nodded enthusiastically. “We’re old friends from high school! I was hoping to find him here?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying, or what kind of a dare this is-“ She eyed them both up and down disdainfully. “But you’re not going to do it to my son. He’s better than being your ridiculous sorority initiations, and I won’t take it anymore!” She slammed the door shut.

Buffy and Faith stared at each other. “Wow,” Buffy said finally.

“I think I actually feel kinda bad for the shrimp right now,” Faith agreed.

Buffy sighed. “Want to just go home?”

“Guess so,” Faith agreed.

They watched bad TV until Buffy finally begged off to sleep, citing that she had a class in the morning. The quest for revenge would continue the next day.

\--

Later the next night, before Faith got off work and they started their hunt for the trio anew, Spike stopped by the house unexpectedly.

“Hey, Little Bit,” Buffy heard him greeting Dawn downstairs, and she hurried for the stairs. “Haven’t seen you around much lately.”

“Tara’s been staying with me at night,” Dawn said in a frosty tone.

Spike stared at her, perplexed. “Platelet?”

“My name is _Dawn_,” she informed him, stalking up the stairs, brushing past Buffy with a little more force than necessary.

“Sorry,” Buffy said apologetically, descending the steps to him. “She hasn’t been happy with us since the pictures.”

“Right,” Spike said heavily, pulling her into his arms for a soft kiss. “Worth it,” he whispered in her ear, grinning like the cat that had eaten the canary.

Buffy grinned back. “What brings you here? Faith’s going to be home soon.”

“Think I’ve got a lead for the Nerdy Three,” Spike explained. “There’s a bar where Robot Boy’s been spotted a few times, even now that he’s lying low. Thought we could go there, check out the scene…”

“William the Bloody,” Buffy began, mock-serious, “Are you asking me on a date?”

He ducked his head like a nervous schoolboy. “Would you say yes?”

“I just might,” she said flirtatiously, linking her arm with his. “Lead the way.”

The door opened suddenly, and Buffy and Spike sprang apart.

“Hey, B. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Faith said curiously. Then she caught sight of Spike, and pretty much forgot that Buffy existed. “Hello, lover,” she purred, slinking up to him from behind to whisper into his ear.

Spike looked to Buffy imploringly. She shrugged helplessly.

He stepped forward, out of Faith’s personal space, and turned to face her. “’Lo, Slayer,” he greeted her, backing up a little more until he almost crashed into Buffy. Out of Faith’s sight, she raised a hand to press it comfortingly against his back.

Faith looked disappointed, and her eyes darkened. “What are you doing here? Not screwing me, that’s for sure,” she mumbled.

“Got a place where Robot Boy frequents,” he muttered reluctantly, Buffy’s hand under the back of his shirt the only thing keeping him from fleeing the other slayer.

“Ooh, a date!” Faith bounced over to him to grab his hand. 

He winced at the disappearance of the warmth at his back, and let Faith go. “Sorry, love, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh? You were going to go with _her_, then?” Faith nodded at Buffy, suspicious again. 

“No, he wanted both of you to come along,” Dawn informed Faith from the top of the stairs. Buffy glanced at her, startled at her sudden defense of them. 

“Oh. Okay,” Faith said, appeased. “Just give me a second for a pit stop and I’ll be ready to go,” she informed them, heading for the bathroom. 

“Thanks.” Buffy smiled up at Dawn.

Dawn glowered at them. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my sister.” She turned to Spike. “You had better flirt back when she flirts with you, or she’ll suspect something, if you two keep making with the moon eyes.”

“She’s right,” Buffy agreed grudgingly, running a hand over his arm. “But I don’t like it.”

“Ready?” Faith asked, popping back into the room. Buffy dropped her hand.

A truly evil smile spread across Dawn’s face. “Have fun,” she murmured, and vanished into her room until Tara arrived.

\--

If Faith said one more damned innuendo, Buffy would kill her herself. And if Spike leered one more time, then to hell with it and he was going, too. Hey, she’d sent one boyfriend to hell, and she could do it again.

“We’re here!” Faith announced, linking her hand with Spike’s. She moved to lick up the side of his face. “Want to do some shots like we did that one time at my birthday?” she breathed.

Buffy clenched her jaw. Oh, that was it. She rounded on Faith, but the girl was gone, towing Spike along with her.

“Coming, B?” Faith called to her, shoving Spike onto a barstool and climbing onto his lap.

Spike stood up abruptly, sending Faith toppling to the ground. “You know what?” he said finally. “You chits take care of this scene. I’ll see you around.” He was out the door in a flash, leaving behind a frustrated Faith and a very relieved Buffy.

Faith scowled. “Oh, screw this. I’m getting laid.” She stormed off in the direction of a crowd of college guys and shoved one into the wall, kissing him forcefully.

Buffy shrugged, bemused, and raced after Spike. She caught him halfway through Restfield, grabbed him, spun him around, and devoured his lips with all her pent-up frustration from the night. 

Spike pulled away, gaping, and grinned, relieved, when he realized who had jumped him. “For a second there, I thought that you were Faith,” he said, then closed the space between them again.

Clothes were shoved out of the way, bodies were locked together, and Spike was inside her faster than ever before. Her every nerve was sensitized to him, her heart was racing, she was hotter than she’d ever been, and he was, too…

She came with a scream the instant he reached his hand down between them, and he followed her off the precipice a moment later, roaring in ecstasy as he shot within her.

She sagged against his body, he still within her. “Kiss me,” she managed, her head lolling against his shoulder.

He lifted her face up with shaking hands. “That was…I never…” His eyes shone, and she kissed them tenderly.

He began to harden within her, and she laughed. “Again?”

“Yeah.” He stroked her hair. “You got a problem with that?”

“I do,” said an icy voice from behind the tall tombstone they’d been up against. “But hey, that never stopped you before, huh?” Faith stepped out to face them, her eyes very dark.

Buffy gaped at her. “Faith, I…”

“Try it when my boy’s dick isn’t in your hole,” Faith snapped. She spun around, away from them. “God, I can’t even look at you two! How long were you doing this? Playing me for a fool?”

Buffy pulled away from Spike, hastily pulling herself together. “I- We didn’t-“

Faith punched her in the nose. “Not you!” she growled, as Spike ran to help Buffy up. “I knew that you were slime. I knew you’d take everything from me!” She rounded on Spike. “But you… You son of a bitch! You were mine! We were together for years! What happened? You found a better fuck? Is that it?”

“It wasn’t like that!” Buffy protested, moving in front of Spike protectively.

“Shut up!” Faith shouted. “Then what was it? Huh? What does _she_ have that I don’t?” She glared daggers at Spike, her eyes wild and desperate.

What Spike said next stunned them all. “I love her,” he said simply.

Faith gaped at Spike, then remembered herself. “If you set foot into my house again, I’ll kill you,” she informed Buffy, storming off in disgust.

Buffy watched her go blankly, feeling suddenly weighted down, more than she’d ever been since she’d killed Angel. Spike loved her. Damn.

“You can stay with me,” Spike offered gently, reaching out to her.

She pulled away as if she’d been burned. “I- I need some space,” she said hastily. Seeing his face fall, she admitted quietly, “I just need to adjust, you know?”

“I understand,” he said, his face suddenly unreadable. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, walking off.

She didn’t quite know where she was going until her feet led her to Revello Drive. The basement window was open, so she let herself in and climbed up the familiar stairs to her room.

It had been cleaned, but beyond that, nothing had really changed. She stretched out on the bed and hugged Mr. Gordo to her chest, staring blankly at the ceiling, and cried.

\--

Faith stormed into Willow’s dorm, shoving aside the students in the hallway, ignoring their annoyed shouts, and slammed open the door. “Do it, Willow. Whatever crap you have planned for Buffy, do it. Screw her over. Both of them.”

“Them?” Willow pulled her to the bed, giving her a hug. “What happened?”

“Buffy. And Spike.” She felt sick. Nauseous. Furious. Hysterical. “Together.”

“Oh, Faith,” Willow said sympathetically, pulling Faith’s head to rest on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” She eyed the nasty-looking concoction on the dresser. “I can fix it in about an hour, if you want.”

“You’ll break them up?” Faith demanded, all the energy draining out of her.

“I will,” Willow assured her.

Faith lay down on the bed. “Make it hurt,” she said coldly.

Willow’s eyes glittered with barely contained excitement. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	19. Chapter 19

Buffy woke in her old room the next morning in confusion. For a moment, she thought that everything since Angel’s death had been one long dream, that she was still at home, ready for summer vacation before senior year, happy with Willow and Xander and Giles and slaying and nothing else. Then the events of the night before came crashing back to her, and she sat up like a dart, gasping with sorrow.

Despite everything that had happened since she’d returned, despite the hatred, the exclusions, the dirty looks, she’d never felt quite so alone. She was homeless, and now, she was also friendless. She’d hurt a Scooby so badly last night, and she knew that they would rally behind Faith. Faith was their leader. She’d lost any tentative friendships she’d been building now.

…Except for Spike’s, and that was even worse. She hadn’t _asked_ him to fall in love with her, but she felt it as a burden. It was one thing when they genuinely liked each other and were together, but once he fell in love with her, it had become a real relationship. And if there was one thing that Buffy had avoided like the plague for the last few years, it had been relationships.

But that was what she’d been doing, hadn’t she? Desperately trying to build lasting relationships with new and old friends? She laughed bitterly. Of course she had, not thinking about what it would mean once she’d pulled it off. More people she could hurt. More people who’d hate her when she disappointed them. And she inevitably would.

Ironic, wasn’t it, that she’d finally recovered from the relationship scars that Angelus had left, only to fall prey to new ones inflicted by Willow?

She reached for the phone with sudden resolve. She’d do it. Call Willow. Confront Willow with her pain, and beg her to forgive her. Maybe this time, instead of avoiding the witch like she’d been doing since the first day she’d returned, she’d try to apologize again.

She racked her memory, struggling to remember Tara’s dorm number with little success. Disappointed, she went downstairs to look for a phone book, only to stop to check the list of important numbers her mother had always had posted on the refrigerator. And there it was: _Willow Rosenberg, UCS._

She picked up the phone to dial, only to set it back down in defeat. There was no dial tone. Of course. This was an abandoned house.

This time, when she ran upstairs, she went straight for her mother’s room, seeking maternal solace that she could only reach while curled up in Joyce’s bed.

\--

Angel awakened somewhere around sunset in an old, familiar mansion.  
_  
How did I…where did I…?  
_  
The last thing he remembered was hell. Lots of it. Fire, and pain, and danger…he’d finally given up, surrendered any humanity that was left in him and let his stronger side take the brunt of the pain.

But now…it was almost like he was in Sunnydale again. Was this some new kind of hell, where they dangled your deepest desires in front of you and snatched them away just when you were finally able to hope again?

He inhaled a long, deep sniff, taking in the area around him. Magic. It was strong here, potent and black and-_ Oh, hell, I really am back._

He stood on suddenly shaky feet.

If she was still around…if it had only been a few days…if it were even just her grandchildren who lived here… He had a girl to see.

\--

Spike headed out at nightfall, intending to check on Buffy and comfort her, the space of the day since his confession more than enough time for her to move on from it. In his opinion.

He’d followed her back to Revello Drive the night before, stood under the tree in the front yard and listened to her cries, cursing himself for making it even worse. She hadn’t wanted to hear about his love. She hadn’t wanted the love at all.

Would he never learn? He had to stop falling in love with women who didn’t love him back. And yes, he acknowledged the irony of loving someone so much that for her sake, he wanted to stop loving her. Clearly, Buffy couldn’t handle it.

_Or maybe she could just fine, _he thought, freezing in his tracks. Because Angel- _Angel!_¬- had suddenly cut through the cemetery in front of him, and was walking swiftly in the same direction, toward Revello Drive, unnoticing of Spike behind him. Or, apparently, the fact that he was dead. Because Angel? Was not supposed to be around. Ever. Especially not when his girl was…

Buffy stepped into the cemetery, glancing in the direction of his crypt, and Spike felt a sudden surge of hope. Maybe…

Then the Angel-phantom, from just to the left of Buffy’s path, said hoarsely, “Buffy?”

Buffy turned to gape at him, her hand slowly going to her mouth and her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh, god, Angel?”

Then the two lovers were kissing fiercely, and Spike was rooted to the spot, gazing at the girl he loved and the man she loved with horror.

A hand tugged at his wrist. “Come on,” Faith ordered him, yanking him in the direction of the crypt. He followed her numbly, unwilling to turn back and see more of the long-gone relationship Buffy had insisted she was over. 

Faith shut the crypt door and reached for his shirt. She barely registered in his pounding brain. Instead, he spun, lifted the first bottle he saw and hurled it against the wall with a scream.

“Hey!” Faith said, annoyed. “Take it down a notch or two.” 

He ignored her, grabbing his television and throwing it down to the ground with a crash, shoving sarcophagi and the armchair and punching the wall so hard that several of his knuckles shattered. He stared blankly at the ruins that had been his crypt moments before, and his eyes finally lighted on Faith. “What are you doing here?”

Faith shrugged nonchalantly. “Revenge sex can be really great, you know? Forget that bitch.” She moved toward him, but he held her back with one hand.

“Get out of here.”

“But-“

He let loose a growl that would have made a Fyarl stop and run. “Get OUT!”

She sighed in exasperation and exited the crypt, and he dropped to the floor in sudden weariness. He could break every bottle he had in the crypt…or he could drink each one first, and then break them. That was it. Just drown out the pain.

\--

Buffy didn’t know what she was doing. In one surreal instant, Angel had been there, an echo of faint memories of stolen kisses in the moonlight, and she’d been suddenly thrown back to a better time where all she’d had to worry about was school and her friends. She’d kissed him, drinking in the illusion, missing the simplicity…

And then she’d realized that it was all real and caught sight of a head of hair so blond, it was nearly glow-in-the-dark, moving away from them at a jerky pace, as though he was being tugged along. And she stared after Spike with mounting self-disgust. _What have I done?_

“Buffy?” Angel’s soft voice pulled her from her reverie. “Am I really here?”

She stared at him. “Um. Yeah. How _are_ you here?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. I woke up at the mansion, alone. But there were probably strong magics involved.” He blinked at her. “How long was I gone? You look…older.”

_Willow. Of course. She can’t force Tara to come home, so she’d rather force Spike and me apart_. She managed a smile for Angel’s sake. This wasn’t his fault, no matter how much he’d screwed things up for her. And maybe it was for the best. Maybe she could stop ruining Spike’s life by her association with him, and try to build again with Angel. She quashed Spike’s confession of love from her mind as best as she could. “About three and a half years.” She squeezed his hand. “Come back to my house with me. It doesn’t have electricity or water, but it does have shelter from the sun, and I can explain everything to you there.”

She told him what he’d missed, what she knew about the years that had gone by. She admitted how long she’d been gone, too, and what losing him had done to her. She told of Willow’s powers, of Faith’s role, even of Anya and Tara. But not once did she mention Spike. Spike was hers, and she didn’t want to hear what Angel would say about it, his disappointment with her and condemnation of Spike. Because in the story of her and Spike, Spike was far more innocent than Buffy had been, and he was certainly the wronged party. She didn’t want to hear Angel cheapen what they had by writing Spike off as evilsoullessvampire.

So when dawn broke, she sent him to the basement, promising that she’d pick up blood for him later. On her way upstairs, she’d been startled when she opened the freezer, still a bit cold for lack of being opened, and found blood bags stacked neatly behind the frozen spinach. Spike hadn’t been lying when he’d claimed that he’d spent time with her mother. And he was probably around even more often than he’d said, judging from the amount of blood stocked.

She pulled it out of the freezer, casting an irritable glance at the nonfunctional microwave. Oh, well. Angel would have to drink it cold. Hopefully, it would defrost by the time he woke.

She climbed into bed, wondering what had happened to her vampire. Had Faith taken advantage of this? Was he with her right now? Suddenly very queasy, she went to her window and pulled it open, intending to go find Spike.

No. She inhaled slowly, letting the fresh air fill her lungs. She was finally with someone who wanted her to be there, and she was going to take the curse Willow had meant as the gift it truly was. She would stay with the one-time love of her life.  
_  
Except, if what I feel for Angel is love, then I’ve loved Spike a hell of a lot more all along.  
_  
She wiped the treacherous thoughts from her mind and forced herself to go to sleep.

\--

“Wake up!”

Spike groaned. Was he sober? Not likely, if he thought that Dawn was in his crypt. She’d made her current opinion on him known, and there’s no way that she’d come visit. 

“I said, wake _up_!” No, that was definitely her. There was no way he could hallucinate that unique, high-pitched screech that was Dawn Lehane’s annoyed voice.

“What do you want, Bit?” he mumbled, trying ineffectually to open his eyes. 

She punched him on the arm. “It’s been, like, two days since Faith kicked Buffy out. Get over it!”

“Get over it?” His eyes shot open. “I love the traitorous bitch! You don’t just move on from that!”

Dawn raised her eyebrows. “You_ love_ Faith? Since when- oh. Buffy.”

“Yes, Buffy.” He shut his eyes again at the jolt of pain that shot through him when he said her name. He would have thought he’d get used to losing his loves to Angelus, but no. It still felt raw. He still wanted to be dead…er.

“So that’s why Faith’s been doing extra hours at Willy’s,” Dawn said knowingly, moving to sit next to him. “What happened to turn you into a crazed drunk, anyway?”

Spike rubbed his head, trying to make his now searing headache go away. “Willow and Faith…they brought back her dead lover. Haven’t seen her since then.”

“That sucks.” Dawn turned to him, suddenly somber. “You really loved each other?”

“I love her. Don’t think she loved me,” Spike admitted.

“You should have told me.”

He squeezed her hand. “Didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But…” She shrugged helplessly. “I guess if you’d said something, before I found out on my own…I mean, you love her. That makes it okay, right? Kind of romantic, even.” 

Spike turned away from her. “Not really.” He reached blindly for the closest bottle. “You can get out now. I’ve still got at least another case to drink before I have to go out again.”

“Spike!” Dawn said, frustrated. 

He just ignored her until she left.

\--

“Do something!” Dawn ordered her sister.

Faith blinked at her from where she’d been sharpening a dagger in anticipation of another night keeping Spike from killing all of Willy’s customers. “Huh?”

“Spike! He’s all drunk and useless and depressed. Fix him!” Dawn stomped her foot against the linoleum floor of the kitchen irritably. 

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that?” Faith drawled. She had never expected that Willow would do _this_, would find away to keep the lovers apart, alone, and miserable, but she was going to give it time. Eventually, Buffy would go off into what Willow called “her happy little lala land with Angel” and Spike would come back to Faith for fucks without feeling. He’d moved on from Dru; he could certainly move on from Buffy.

She frowned at a sudden memory, a time when she’d asked him why Dru had dumped him. Dru had cheated on him, claiming that he didn’t belong to her anymore, but to the slayer. Or something like that. Back then, she’d thought the idea of Spike having feelings for her was a riot, and he had, too.  
_  
Except what if Drusilla wasn’t talking about me at all?_ The truth hit her with frightening accuracy, and she shuddered. No, this might be even worse than the Dru breakup.

“He really loves her,” Dawn said, echoing her thoughts. “Make Buffy come back so Spike will be okay.”

“Whatever, Dawnie,” she said dismissively, holstering the dagger and heading for the door.

“Faith!” Dawn protested, exasperated. Faith tamped the guilt down ruthlessly. So maybe Spike would never forgive her for this. But she wasn’t about to go groveling to Buffy to come home.


	20. Chapter 20

“I got you blood,” Buffy said quietly, holding out a mug to Angel.

He took it from her hastily. “You didn’t need to do that,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t have to…see this stuff.”

Buffy flashed back to a night in Pennsylvania, tearing off the head of a demon with her bare hands. She wasn’t the soft little girl Angel had known.

But all she said was, “I don’t mind.”

Angel looked away from her. “I’ll just go downstairs. It’s getting late, anyway. I should get some sleep.”

She sighed in relief when he was finally gone. Things were so awkward between them that she wanted to scream. They’d both changed so much over the years. Both had been in isolation and their own kind of hell, but hell had molded each one differently. What little excitement she’d had at seeing him again had died after she’d kissed him, and now she just felt empty. At first, she’d been able to avoid him by insisting that she needed to study for her upcoming GED test, but once she’d taken the exam the day before, she’d run out of excuses.

It came as a welcome surprise when there was a knock at the door, and she jumped at the prospect of a guest. It couldn’t be Spike, not when the sun was shining high in the morning sky, but maybe it was Tara, or Anya, or…

Xander smiled weakly out at her from where he was framed in the doorway. “Hey, Buffy. Can we talk?”

~

“You need to come back,” he said as soon as she’d seated him in the kitchen. 

She shook her head. “You guys never wanted me to come home, except for Giles, and he’s gone now. I’ll probably even leave Sunnydale with Angel.”

“Angel?” Xander echoed with distaste. “Why would you choose him over Spike?”

“You really are in love with Spike,” Buffy said dryly, her heart aching at the sound of his name. She tried not to think of him. She’d been selfish, and interfered with his life, and all she’d done was hurt him.

Xander rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Buffy. Why would you throw away everything you’ve built here? Again?”

“I haven’t built anything!” Buffy argued. “Since I’ve gotten here, all I’ve done is destroy things. Faith’s in pieces because of me, and I _know_ that Willow doesn’t want me around. I forced Dawn to keep secrets from Faith, destroyed Spike and Faith’s relationship, and Tara went through a lot of pain, thanks to me. I’ve ruined everything that _you’ve_ all built, and maybe you’re better off without me!”

Xander held up a hand. “It’s not like that at all, and you know it. You helped Tara when the rest of us were too dependent on Willow’s friendship to interfere.” He looked down. “We were idiots. It wasn’t fair of us to stop you from doing it, and I’m glad you didn’t listen to me. You did the right thing, Buffy.”

She met his eyes again, and her heart swelled at what she saw in his eyes. Pride in her, something she hadn’t seen in so long from any of her friends, not since she’d been a slayer beating down monsters every night while her loyal friends looked on from the sidelines. “Xander?”

He went on, giving her a half-smile. “Willow’s issues are Willow’s issues, and definitely not your problem. No one blames you for that. And Spike?” His eyes warmed. “I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Not ever. And if you told him that you thought you’d hurt him with your presence, he’d probably laugh in your face.”

Buffy bit her lip. “I kissed Angel.”

Whatever Xander had been expecting, it clearly wasn’t that. “What?”

“When I first saw him. I kissed him. It was stupid.” She closed her eyes, unwilling to see the disappointment on Xander’s face. “I’m pretty sure Spike saw.”

“So that’s why he’s been in a foul mood,” Xander mused. He shrugged. “Of course you kissed him, Buffy! The guy’s death scarred you so much that you ran away for three years. No one would blame you for doing that.” He scratched the side of his head. “I’ll be honest. I came here worried that you’d released Angelus again.”

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Xander cut her off before she could say a word. “Obviously, if you’re feeling guilty for a kiss, you haven’t done anything extreme. But you can’t blame me for checking.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Right?”

Buffy sighed. “I guess.” It bothered her that Xander didn’t trust her enough to stay away from Angel, but she couldn’t be upset with him. Not for his caution. Not after everything that had happened.

“So are you coming back?” Xander asked hopefully. “The wedding’s next week, and Anya’s guests are coming in now. Faith has her hands full trying to keep demons she’s not allowed to kill from devouring all the humans in their paths.”

“Faith won’t want to work with me,” Buffy pointed out. 

“True,” Xander agreed. “She’s still annoyed that even though you’re not with Spike, he won’t go near her.”

She felt a flash of hope that she had no business feeling. “Really?”

Xander watched her with sharp eyes that saw far too much. “He still loves you,” he said quietly. “But he has his pride. He’s not going to come groveling to you.”

Buffy stood, effectively ending the conversation. “Tell him I’m leaving,” she said softly. “He doesn’t need…he shouldn’t wait for me.”

Xander’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

“I did!” Buffy protested. “But-“

“But you’re taking the easy way out,” Xander finished. “You’re still going to run. Again.” He turned to the door. “That’s no way to live, Buffy.” 

She watched him go, feeling unaccountably guilty at the sudden slump in his step. _Maybe he’s right. Maybe they do need me._

\--

Tara and Anya were the next ones to come, just after sunset that night. Buffy was surprised to see them together. She knew that they spent a lot of time together at the Magic Box, but she hadn’t thought that they were friends, not when they were just so different.

When Angel heard the chatter of girls- or rather just Anya’s cheerful voice- he excused himself to the basement again. Buffy wondered what he did down there all the time. Once, she’d peeked down and seen him doing slow exercises, but he couldn’t possibly spend all his time doing that. She made a face, reminding herself of how much broodier he’d gotten since his foray in hell. Yes, he could.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully, surprised to find that she didn’t have to fake her happiness at seeing them. She’d missed her friends, more than she’d suspected, and it felt almost natural to have them visiting her at home. 

“Hello!” Anya’s grin matched hers, and even Tara smiled softly as she murmured her greetings.

“So where is he?” Anya demanded, setting down the large paper bag she was holding and poking her head into the kitchen curiously. 

“Angel?”

“The man who’d make you give up the best sex on Earth,” Anya said frankly.

Buffy gaped at her, noticing from the corner of her eye that Tara was smirking. Tara. Smirking? Being away from Willow had really done wonders for Tara. “I didn’t- it wasn’t because of him…”

“Xander says that you’re not having sex with him,” Anya informed her. “Spike didn’t really understand that, when Xander told him. He’s been passed out on the couch for the last day, since Faith made Xander remove him from Willy’s last night.”

“Passed out?” Buffy echoed, suddenly concerned. “Is he alright?”

“He’s drunk,” the ex-demon explained. “That’s how he deals with breakups. Hallie keeps trying to get him to make a wish against you, but we’ve been keeping her away from him.” She frowned. “Usually, she works with neglected children, but she insists that she owes Spike one. Something about a party, and Dru…”

“Hallie?” Buffy repeated. She was only listening with half an ear, still stuck on what Anya had said about Spike.

“Vengeance Demon,” Tara supplied. “He misses you, Buffy.”

“The Vengeance Demon?”

“Buffy…” Tara murmured.

She swallowed. “Right. I get it. I…I miss him, too,” she admitted. “So much it hurts.”

“Then go to him,” Anya said, folding her arms.

Tara ignored her. “Are you happy?” she asked, her gaze intent on Buffy.

Buffy considered for a moment. She should have been. Angel was back, she was far away from Faith’s hostility, free to do whatever she wanted… And yet, everything was awkward between her and her onetime lover, and she spent a lot more time moping over her lost vampire- the unsouled one- and all the friends she missed. Hell, she even missed Faith a little. They’d had some good times, once they’d started getting along, and despite the competition and shared feelings for Spike, they had almost been building a kind of friendship.

Worst of all, though, was the pain of knowing that she’d hurt Spike, and that she couldn’t go to him for guidance, or friendship, or even the love he’d given her. It was that horrible week after seeing the Faith and Spike show all over again, only this time, she knew what she’d lost, and it hurt that much more. For the first time in her life, she’d found herself bringing herself off in the shower or in bed, thinking of the bleach blond and what he could do to her. But it wasn’t just his hands or tongue or body that she craved and that left her needy. It was the devotion in his eyes when he was within her, the soft timbre of his voice as he murmured in her ear, the shared exhilaration between them as they fought together…

Maybe this path was easier. Maybe running away would make everything simpler. Maybe this way, she could avoid being sad, but she certainly wasn’t facilitating her own happiness.  
_  
“But you’re taking the easy way out. You’re still going to run. Again. That’s no way to live, Buffy.”   
_  
But she forced a smile and turned back to Tara. “I’m fine.”

~

“It’s getting late,” Anya remarked, glancing at her watch. “Xander wants to take me out tonight, so I’d better go.” 

“I guess I’m on Spike duty, then?” Tara asked, grinning. 

Anya nodded. “Faith doesn’t want him wrecking Willy’s again. Just keep him well-nourished and make sure he doesn’t break anything. Oh! And keep Hallie away from him,” she instructed.

“Got it.”

For a moment, Buffy wanted to apologize for what was happening to Spike. But a sympathetic glance from Tara stopped her.

“We don’t blame you,” Tara said gently. “Not for breaking Spike’s heart. That’s between you and him, and we don’t choose sides between friends.”

“So you don’t think I’m doing the wrong thing?” Buffy asked hopefully.

“Of course she does,” Anya said archly. “We both do. But friends put up with other friends’ mistakes, right?” The other two girls beamed at each other. “So we’ll support you no matter what!”

They headed for the door, and Buffy lifted the bag that Anya had left by the door. “Don’t forget this.”

Anya gave her a strange look. “That’s yours.”

Buffy peeked into the bag. “Sorry, Ahn, but I don’t think I own anything in quite that shade of green.”

“No, it’s for the wedding,” Anya explained, looking suddenly concerned. “You are going to be a bridesmaid, right? Because you were one of the only people who really helped with the preparations, and I like you.”

Buffy stared at her in shock. She remembered a few offhand comments from Anya about her role in the wedding party, but she hadn’t thought that Anya would really make her a bridesmaid, not when Willow and Faith would be there, and Spike…

“You’re coming, aren’t you?” Anya checked. “I’ve already done the seating, and the amount of people in the wedding party, and everything’s set up-“

“Relax, Anya.” Buffy put a hand on the shoulder of the panicking girl. “Of course I’ll be your bridesmaid.” 

“Great!” Anya bounced right back to her previous excitement. “Don’t forget about the rehearsal! The wedding’s on Sunday, so come over Sunday morning and we can get ready.”

The two girls waved goodbye, and ran down the walk together. 

Buffy shut the door, still holding the bag with the dress and smiling to herself, touched.

\--

Friday afternoon, she returned from her class to find Dawn slouching on the living room couch, watching Angel sullenly as he watched her uncomfortably from the corner.

“She just got here,” Angel said apologetically when he saw her come in. “I told her you’d be here soon.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling tentatively at him. He hadn’t been pushing her to talk to him, either, and she was grateful. Consciously, she knew that he was probably still wracked with guilt for all he’d done as Angelus, and she should probably assure him that she didn’t hold it against him, but a selfish little part of her was too relieved that he hadn’t tried to resume their relationship that she couldn’t bring herself to bring it up in the first place.

He hung around in the kitchen while she spoke to Dawn, heating up his blood in their newly working microwave. Somehow, Angel had gotten the power and electricity turned on again with just a few phone calls. Buffy certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Hey, Dawnie.”

Dawn scowled at her. “You’re a bitch.”

“So you’ve told me,” she said agreeably.

“Make Spike right again!” she demanded, her eyes flashing as she rose to her full height, sadly an inch or two above Buffy. “Now!”

The door slammed behind her, leaving a very bemused Buffy standing alone in the living room.

Angel poked his head out of the kitchen. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you and Spike?”


	21. Chapter 21

“Let me in!” 

Xander heard the pounding at the door and was unsurprised when it finally flew open. “Don’t think so,” he said casually, taking a seat on the armchair beside Spike’s couch. He’d suspected that this moment would come eventually, and with all the hatred he’d had pent up over the years for the intruder, he planned to enjoy it completely.

Spike stirred, his eyes opening sleepily. “Is that…?” His voice trailed off as the full effects of his current hangover hit him and he ran for the bathroom. Xander winced. Anya had spent the good part of yesterday cleaning blood off the bathroom floor, and if she had to do it two nights before her wedding… He’d never hear the end of it.

There was a loud, sickening sound of retching from the other room. “Made it to the toilet this time!” Spike called when the sound finally stopped.

From the doorway, Angel roared in fury and launched himself against the barrier.

Xander smirked. “Having fun, Dead Boy?”

“He’s done something!” Angel snapped. “Some kind of magical manipulation! You’ll all be dead if I don’t take care of him!”

“Yeah, Spike’s so scary,” Xander agreed, rolling his eyes. “Please. Bunnies are scarier than he is.”

“Oi!” Spike said, emerging from the bathroom with bloodstained lips. “I can be scary!”

Xander scowled at him. “Is it too much to ask for you to wash your face?”

Spike smirked. “Aw, are you afraid to kiss me like this? I thought our love transcended little things like my eating habits.”

“Sorry, Blood Breath.” Xander matched his smirk. “Even I draw the line at that.” He fought down the slightest arousal at Spike’s leer. What? No one, male or female, alive or undead, could resist that! And besides, he liked Anya better. Really.

“Come on!” Angel said furiously. “He’s a vampire! Evil, soulless-“

“-Chipped,” Spike finished, raising his eyebrows. “So why aren’t you at home right now with your honey?” His fists were clenched, and Xander was suddenly worried. It was one thing to keep Angel away from Spike while there was a barrier in place. It was something else entirely to keep Spike from Angel, and as much faith as he had in his friend’s ability to beat up the souled vampire, he knew that Spike was still fighting a nasty hangover and more than a little irrational when it came to Buffy. 

Plus, after the super’s talk with him yesterday, he knew she wouldn’t be pleased to find that his drunkard friend was still around and had destroyed the hallway in a brawl.

Angel lunged at the doorway again. “I know there’s something going on between you and Buffy!” he growled. “What did you do to her?”

“He didn’t do anything,” cut in a female voice, and Buffy was suddenly pulling Angel from the doorway, looking pale and worried and not meeting Spike’s gaze. “And I told you not to go after him. I’m sorry it took me so long,” she said, turning to Xander apologetically. “I didn’t know that he’d come here first. I guess he heard us talking.”

Xander threw a sidelong glance at Spike. He was staring at Buffy like a starving man would look at his last morsel of bread, his eyes open and needy. But as he watched, Spike’s eyes hardened and he looked away, stalking back to the bathroom.

Buffy finally turned to look intently at Spike, and Xander was pleased to notice that she had a similar, hungry expression on her face.

Angel turned to her. “Buffy…” he said, his voice pained. 

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said softly. “Please, just come home with me.”

And with one last longing glance at the bathroom where Spike had vanished, she and Angel were gone.

Xander wondered just who she thought she was kidding.

\--

“How are we doing?” Dawn asked, coiffed up as a bridesmaid and shooting suspicious looks at Halfrek, who had a sly smile curling up the sides of her face. “Everyone ready?” It might not have been the real wedding yet, but Xander and Anya had decided to make the rehearsal earlier the same day to minimize the amount of time that they had to spend with all their relatives and friends together. Time was of the essence now, before the guests all arrived and the wedding had to officially start.

Tara checked her watch worriedly. “W-We’re right on schedule, except we’re missing o-one bridesmaid.”

“Let me guess.” Faith rolled her eyes. “Buffy’s playing hooky.”

“She’ll be here,” Dawn said confidently, not looking at Faith. She was still sulking because Spike hadn’t yet emerged from his drunken stupor. Willow had tried to sober him up for the rehearsal, at least, but she’d been surprisingly ineffectual in that regard.

“You have far too much faith in her,” Faith muttered. “She’ll disappoint you. It’s what she does.”

“F-Faith!” Tara said reprovingly, and Faith nearly jumped at the timid girl’s unexpected burst of confidence. “She’ll be here.”

“Doesn’t she make you angry, Dawnie?” Halfrek wheedled. “Don’t you just wish-?”

“Cut it out, Hallie,” Anya said sharply, stepping into the room. “No wishes before the wedding.” She looked around, frowning. “Where are Willow and Buffy? Why are they late?” Her voice rose drastically as she spoke, searching for the missing girls wildly.

“Willow’s in the groom’s room, working on Spike.” For a minute, a guilty look passed over Tara’s face, but Faith discounted it immediately. There was no way that Tara had anything to do with Willow’s sudden trouble with magic. She couldn’t even stop the dark witch from screwing with her memories. “Buffy’s a no-show.”

“What?” Anya demanded, her pitch rising to window-shattering proportions. “She has to be here! She’s in the wedding party!” She turned to Faith. “Make her come back! Now!”

Faith almost laughed at that. Why should she be responsible for bringing Buffy back? They didn’t even like each other, let alone listen to one another... But then she looked at Anya’s tense face, and Dawn’s defiant eyes, and Tara’s concerned gaze, and she realized that she wouldn’t be the first to try. Not even close.

“I can’t work miracles,” Faith argued. So Buffy had done a runner. Why was it her problem to fix?

Anya glared at her. “You and Willow, you caused this. Now it’s the morning before my wedding and I’m short a bridesmaid and the Best Man. If you ruin my wedding, I’ll, I’ll…”

“Make a wish?” Halfrek asked hopefully.

Anya swung her head to stare at her vengeance demon friend. “Yes!” She eyeballed Faith. “And it’s going to be a gory one!”

Faith sighed. She knew when to pick her battles. “I’ll go work on Spike.”

Spike was in the room the groom was supposed to be using, drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels as Willow watched hopelessly.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Faith demanded, yanking him up. “Xander’s trying to get married, and you’re drunk on the floor. What are you, his father?”

Spike just stared blankly up at her.

Faith punched him in the face. “Go take care of your best friend. He’s counting on you.”

Silently, Spike picked himself up from the floor, handed her the bottle, and staggered out of the room. Faith turned to Willow. “Make sure he gets to the main room okay. Tell Anya that I’ll be back for the real deal.”

“Where are you going?” Willow demanded, her eyes flashing. “Not to Buffy!”

Faith shook her head. “Let it go, Willow. We screwed this thing up. It’s time to fix it.”

“Don’t go anywhere!” Willow hissed, and suddenly, Faith was involuntarily rooted to the spot. “I’m not losing you to her, too!”

Faith gaped at her friend. _Oh, god._ Was this what Willow had become? Someone who would use magic as force when things didn’t go her way? _Well, obviously. Where have you been?_ Willow had been doing this for months now, but it hadn’t hit home until she found herself frozen in place, her free will stripped from her because Willow didn’t like something she’d said.

It had been building up for a while, but the epiphany hit her full force at that moment. She’d taken the wrong side on this conflict, blinded by jealousy and insecurity. And in doing so, she’d fueled Willow’s rage and validated her anger. 

It was time to go make amends.

Spike jerked against Willow suddenly, ruining her focus and freeing Faith. Their eyes met, and Faith was relieved to see that he’d been sobered by her violence and Willow’s manipulations. “Go,” he said urgently, and swung around to totter, mostly steadily, toward the main room.

She took off, too determined with her mission to worry about what she’d do when she confronted Buffy.

\--

She’d chickened out at the last minute. She’d been ready to go, ready to not disappoint Anya and Tara and Xander and okay, even Dawn, but then she’d seen Spike’s eyes, hard as steel, and she’d known that she couldn’t see him again, not so soon. The wedding rehearsal was probably going on even then, and she was instead sitting silently in her living room, staring blankly at her high school yearbook. Her mother had gotten it for her, ostensibly hoping that she’d come home. She gazed down at a photo of her and Willow and Xander and Cordelia, tracing the lines of Willow’s innocent face. Angel sat on the chair next to the couch, a small book of poetry in his hands. They were both pretending to read, but she knew that he was still seething at her dismissal from two nights before and the way she was still keeping her relationship with Spike from him.

The doorbell rang, and Buffy didn’t stop Angel from getting it. She didn’t want to see Tara, or whoever had come to get her. Maybe Angel would glower them away, or something.

She was startled at the voice she heard from the entryway. “Damn, B. Now I get it.”

“Faith.” Buffy rose unsteadily, heading for the door. “Shouldn’t you be at the rehearsal?”

Faith put a hand to Angel’s chest, pushing him away so she could saunter in. She paused for a minute, running her hands over his chest admiringly. “Hell agreed with you, vampire,” she noted, licking her lips.

Angel stared at her, taken aback. “You’re the other slayer?”

“Call me Faith,” she purred. Angel blinked at her bemusedly.

Buffy glared at them, annoyed. “Faith? Mind telling me why you’re here?”

“Hm?” Faith tore her eyes away from Angel. “Oh, right. You.”

“Me,” Buffy agreed.

Faith looked around appreciatively. “Nice little love shack you’ve got here, B.”

“We’re not- It’s not-“ Angel looked to Buffy for help. She shrugged.

“Right.” Faith turned back to Buffy. “Listen, Buffy, I get that you’re all depressed and have a complex about running away or whatever, but you’ve gotta get over it,” she informed Buffy, suddenly very earnest. It was a new look for Faith, and kind of disconcerting. “Somehow, you’ve managed to worm your way into my friends’ hearts, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you break them.” She glared at Buffy. “So you’d better get the hell out of your little dreamworld and drag your ass to the wedding, got it?”

Buffy knew that her jaw had dropped, but she couldn’t manage to lift it. Willow aside, Faith was the last one she’d have expected to come after her. And here she was, not to gloat or vent, but to bring Buffy back into the circle. “But Spike…”

Faith shrugged. “I think Spike’s an idiot to pick you over me. But he picked, and he doesn’t seem to be changing his mind, so I’ll just deal with it.” She moved to the kitchen, Angel hovering behind her with interest, and took a seat. “What are you waiting for? You can’t just show up at the actual wedding to work things out. Anya will kill you for stealing her thunder.” She took a seat in the kitchen, pulling the package of Oreos on the counter over to where she was sitting.

“Why are you still here?” Buffy asked, genuinely confused.

Faith split an Oreo and licked off the cream almost sensuously, her eyes fixed on Angel. “You’ve already got a vampire. I’m commandeering this one.”

“You’re what?” Angel repeated, his brow creasing.

Buffy was a little bemused, but oddly enough, not in the least bit jealous. The person she really wanted was waiting for her, and she was going to make it right. She rose to the tip of her toes to kiss Angel on the cheek. “I’ve got to go to Spike,” she said softly.

“You _what_?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes and taking a step toward her.

Faith scowled at his distractedness and grabbed his arm to swing him around to face her. “Hey! I’m over here!”

Buffy grinned at them and raced upstairs to get the bridesmaid’s dress. 

“Hurry up, B!” Faith called after her. “Spike’s waiting!”

She applied her makeup and curled her hair as hastily as she could without turning it into a disaster, ignoring Angel’s angry murmurs from the kitchen and the careless chatter from Faith as she calmed the vampire.

When she was satisfied with how she looked, she headed back downstairs, dress in hand, and blinked at the scene in front of her. Somehow, Faith had gotten Angel to sit, and she was straddling his lap, adjusting his gelled hair.

“Is it okay now?” Angel asked anxiously.

“Not yet,” Faith decided, wriggling around on his lap some more. Angel’s gulp was nearly audible.

Buffy smirked at Faith, unable to resist one parting shot. “By the way, this one can’t have sex.”

Faith’s eyes widened in horror.


	22. Chapter 22

She hadn’t wanted to run across town in that monstrosity Anya called a bridesmaid dress, but only when she got to the lodge where the wedding was taking place did she realize that she’d need help to fasten it. Luckily, the first person she saw was willing to help. Dawn’s face lit up when Buffy walked in. “You came!”

“I came,” Buffy agreed, smiling softly at her. 

The younger girl grabbed her arm. “Come on, we’ll get you dressed. The real wedding’s supposed to start in half an hour, and Anya’s going to freak out if she sees you without the Emerald City getup.” She shook her head pityingly. “At least mine doesn’t have those sleeves.”

Only when Dawn was finishing up the buttons did Buffy speak. “I’m really sorry. About everything,” she said quietly. “I…I messed stuff up, and I ran. It was wrong.”

“Damn right it was,” Dawn agreed. “But now you’re going to talk to Spike, right?” She looked at Buffy’s reflection in the mirror expectantly. 

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “If he’s even willing to talk to me, that is.”

“Please!” Dawn rolled her eyes. “He’s totally in love with you. He’ll get over it.”

“_Buffy_?” The incredulous cry came from behind them, and Buffy turned reluctantly to face Anya, Tara trailing behind the bride.

“Hi.” Buffy bowed her head in contrition. Anya slapped her across the chest.

“Keep that up, and you might want to start charging,” Tara said, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Anya scowled. “Well, I wanted to bitch-slap her, but then I’d ruin her makeup.” She turned on Buffy. “You missed the rehearsal!”

“I’m here now,” Buffy offered meekly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Anya cocked her head, assessing Buffy’s expression. “Good,” she said finally. “Now where’s Faith?”

“Huh.” Buffy thought about it. She’d been so consumed with the desire to make things right that she’d forgotten about Faith, who was probably still trying to seduce Angel in the kitchen at home. “She’s on her way?” she tried.

“She’d better be,” Anya warned her, spinning around. “Okay! Am I ready to get married?”

“You look great,” Buffy said honestly. The dress was a little unusual, but Anya still looked typically stunning. And she _had_ gone with the blond hair. “You make a beautiful bride.”

“Of course I do,” Anya agreed, nudging Buffy out of the way so that she could study her reflection critically. “Do you think-“

“Buffy,” Dawn said pointedly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Right!” Buffy dashed out of the room, ignoring Willow’s glare as she passed her in the hall, and skidding to a halt when she reached the groom’s private room. She knocked tentatively.

Spike pulled open the door, saw her there, and slammed it shut.

_Damn_. “Spike?” she tried. “Can we talk?”

She could hear Xander inside, albeit muffled. “Get out of here, Spike.”

“’M not-“

“Do you really want to screw up Anya’s wedding with a bunch of vengeance demons in attendance?” Buffy stifled a smile at Xander’s clearly amused retort. “Go talk to Buffy, now!”

There was a muffled curse, and the door opened abruptly. Spike tossed one last glance at Xander and reluctantly stepped out into the hallway.

Buffy smiled up at him tentatively. “Hi.”

“Yeah,” he said shortly. “Where’s Angel?”

She winced at his tone. “I left him at my house with Faith,” she told him coolly.

He almost smiled at that, and she began to relax. “Have you told her he can’t get a happy?”

“She might just die,” Buffy grinned. He started to smile back, but then remembered himself and his face grew stonier. She looked down. “Spike…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he muttered.

She plowed on anyway. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, and I never should have kissed Angel or anything, but it was only that once! I swear I didn’t do anything else. I was just so stunned, because you know, one minute you’re heading out to talk to one vampire about…you know, what you said…and the next, your long-dead lover is back, and you’re just so confused so you screw it all up and-“

“Buffy.” She stopped babbling. He gazed at her expressionlessly. “I know.”

“You do?”

“It wasn’t that you kissed him,” he explained. “Well, it was at first, but by later that night, I didn’t blame you for that.” He sighed heavily. “But you never came back. You never came to talk to me, or explain, or anything. And after I’d bared my heart to you…” He looked away. “I was just a stand-in, after all. I thought we had something…”

“We did- do!” she agreed, putting a hand on his arm. “I couldn’t be with Angel, not when I knew that you were out there. But I was afraid, so I ran. It’s kind of becoming my thing,” she admitted ruefully.

He laughed bitterly at that. “I understand where Willow’s coming from now,” he murmured. “To- to love someone, to trust someone…and then you just go away.”

“Not again,” she whispered, moving closer to him. He tilted his head down to face her. “I swear.”

Their lips came together in a soft kiss, and when they parted, both their eyes were glistening. “You swear?” Spike repeated.

“I do,” Buffy nodded, never meaning anything more.

Abruptly, Spike yanked open the door to the groom’s room again, and Buffy was suddenly worried. What was he…?

“Harris!” he snapped tersely. “Get out.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Xander asked, eying the two with trepidation.

“Not with the show you’ll be getting if you stick around, wanker,” Spike informed him.

“Oh. _Oh_!” the groom said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “In here?”

“You’ve got ten seconds,” Spike announced, lifting Buffy up easily. She let out a strangled gasp when his hands went somewhere under her dress that Xander should never have seen. “Ten…nine…eight…”

“I’m going!” Xander said hastily, edging past them and carefully avoiding Buffy’s eyes.

She promptly forgot her embarrassment when Spike made her see stars. 

They fell to the floor together, Spike above her, pulling frantically at the lower half of the dress and pushing her underwear aside so he could be within her. “Missed you so much,” he panted with the first thrust. “Love you…need you…”

He whispered endless endearments in her ears as she writhed and moaned in ecstasy at what he was doing to her. She was his, he’d never let her go, he’d always love her… She wasn’t much of a talker, but oh, she’d missed him, and this was perfection, even on the floor of a dressing room moments before a wedding-

“Wedd-_ing_!” she shrieked out the last half of the word as Spike found a particularly sensitive point.

“Vampires don’t marry,” he grunted from somewhere under her dress. “That whole claiming thing is just a myth.”

“_Oh!_” She ground herself against him. “Not…ours…Anya’s!”

He ignored her in favor of bringing her off yet again, gasping with almost the same exhilaration as she’d felt, just at bringing her pleasure. When she’d finally collapsed bonelessly on the floor and he’d reached upwards to draw her into his embrace, she finally remembered it again. “How much time do we have?” she murmured as he traced meaningless patterns into the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

“We’re probably late. I don’t care.” He purred as she ran her fingers through his hair.

She pouted. “I want to stay here forever, but…” She rolled onto her side to face him and kiss him gently. “I can’t let them down again.”

He nodded reluctantly. “I know.”

\--

Tara stifled a grin when Buffy and Spike entered the back room together, looking sheepish and thoroughly mussed and clearly returning from some very intense…making up.

From across the room, Willow was fuming, her eyes dark and angry when she caught sight of the happy couple. Tara suppressed a shudder. Willow did _not_ look pleased at her plans foiled and Buffy back in the fold. But there were more important matters at hand. “Come on, Buffy,” she beckoned. “I’ll fix up your hair.”

Buffy blushed furiously and followed her meekly, her hand still tight in the vampire’s as they all left together.

Halfway to their destination, they collided with Faith, who was dragging along an enormous, hulking man who looked utterly perplexed at the turn of events that had brought them there. “A-Angel?” Tara guessed.

He ignored her, starting forward toward Spike and Buffy. With slayer strength, Faith seized him by the arm and yanked him back toward her. “Behave,” she ordered.

Behind Tara, Spike leaned over to murmur something in Buffy’s ear. She giggled. Angel’s scowl deepened.

“Angel…” Faith said impatiently, and tugged at his sleeve. He sighed and relaxed about an inch.

“So, um, Angel’s your…?” Buffy started.

“Date!” Faith said brightly, pulling him past them. She stopped midway to pinch Spike on the ass and gave them a wicked smirk as she swaggered off, Angel her reluctant companion.

“She did _not_ just do that,” Buffy grated. Spike appeased her with a long, deep kiss that left them both gasping and grinding all over again. 

“I’ll wait in the room,” Tara said weakly, edging away from her friends. “Whenever you’re ready, Buffy?”

Buffy wriggled against Spike, pulling her head away from his with reluctance. He grumbled in protest and attacked her neck with newly reinvigorated fervor. “Hm?”

Tara shrugged helplessly and headed off to Anya’s dressing room.

Willow was already there, pacing angrily and snapping at Dawn, Anya, and the supremely amused Halfrek. “If you expect me to spend the entire wedding with that-“

But she’d grossly miscalculated her newest victims. There was little of the non-bunny variety that scared Anya, and Willow barely made her flinch. “You _will_ get along, and you will _not_ ruin my wedding, Willow Rosenberg, or Xander and I will never speak to you again, and then where will you go?”

“I won’t-“

“I don’t think so. Because I…”

As Anya and Willow tore into each other, Dawn edged away to join Tara. “She’s been like this all day,” she confided. “I don’t think that Faith is talking to her anymore, either. She went to see Buffy today, you know.”

“I know.” Tara watched Willow sadly. “She’s so far gone…”

“Faith?” Dawn said, confused. She followed Tara’s gaze. “Oh. Yeah.” She sighed. “Sometimes, I just wish that someone would force Willow and Buffy to sit down and work all their stuff out.” She chewed on her lip. “Things would be so much-“

But Tara was gaping at Dawn in horror, and Dawn stopped short, frowning. “What?” She blinked at where Tara was staring at a grinning Halfrek. “Oh. Whoops.”

“About time!” Halfrek sighed dramatically. “And normally, there’s so little vengeance in something like this, but I am so sick and tired of the whining!” Her face reverted to its demon form. “And it gives me great pleasure to say, _done_!”

Willow charged at the demon, but as Halfrek finished speaking, she vanished midway and left the vengeance demon beaming at the suddenly silent room.

Tara and Dawn exchanged dubious glances. Tara was the first to speak. “I should be worried, but…”

Dawn nodded. “Me, too.”

Anya’s eyes narrowed at Halfrek. “If you don’t break that wish before the ceremony…”

Halfrek just smiled serenely. “As long as it takes, Anyanka. You know that.”

\--

One second, Buffy had been enjoying the Spike lips that she’d been missing terribly for the two minutes since they’d last been alone together, the next he had faded away like a phantom in the night, as had all her surroundings. Instead, she found herself in a tiny room with steel grey walls and no visible door, her only companion a furious looking Willow.

“What did you do?” Buffy demanded. Normally, she’d just avoid Willow, but that wasn’t an option now. And besides, she was angry. No one messed with her Spike smoochies, especially not the Wicked Witch of Sunnydale.

Willow scowled. “I can’t do anything to you, as you already know. Dawn made a wish.” She sank to the ground, deliberately turning her gaze to look away from Buffy.

Buffy took a seat across the room from Willow. “What did she wish?”

Willow shrugged. “Does it matter?” she asked snippily. 

Buffy bit back a retort. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. She’d wanted to speak to Willow before, and now she had her cornered. Literally. This was her chance. “Willow, can we talk? Please?”

“No,” Willow said flatly. “I’m going to use my magic to get out of here. I can’t help you, of course.”

“Because you hate me?” Buffy guessed.

“Because you warded me,” Willow corrected. “And Spike did, too, right?”

“Yeah.” Buffy bit her lip. “You can’t blame us. Obviously, you’ve been trying magic on us if you know that.”

“I tried to _help_ him,” Willow snapped. “And I couldn’t. I wouldn’t hurt Spike!”

“Like you wouldn’t hurt Tara?” Buffy retorted. “You help by hurting, Willow. You decide what’s best for people, and you make those decisions without consulting with them. That’s why Tara won’t-“

Willow’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk to me about Tara,” she snarled.

“Fine.” They were both silent for a long time, glaring at each other in lieu of conversation. 

Buffy was the first to look away and break the silence. “How did it go so wrong?” Willow didn’t respond. “We used to be friends, Will. You used to be my _best_ friend, before I left. It was wrong, I know that now. But can’t you forgive me?” She blinked back tears that were suddenly springing up. “Maybe not for me, but think of your friends- _our_¬ friends. Don’t they deserve to be happy without being caught in the middle?”

“They chose their side,” Willow said finally. “And now that’s done.”

“They might be on your side, but they’ve accepted me, too,” Buffy countered. “In fact-“

“No,” Willow said quietly, turning to stare at Buffy with dark green eyes. “They chose you.”

Buffy wanted to feel some sympathy for Willow, she really did. But Willow had dug her own grave here. No one had forced her to hate Buffy, or to do everything in her power to make her life a living hell. Willow had alienated herself.

She voiced her thoughts, and Willow gave her a dirty look. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know that you’ve been apparently holding a grudge against me for years, and you won’t even let me apologize,” Buffy pointed out.

Willow laughed bitterly. “So self-centered! It has nothing to do with you.”

“You sure about that?” Buffy asked, eyebrows raised. “Because the whole seething hatred thing kind of gave me that impression.”

Willow snorted in derisive amusement. “Trust me, Buffy, a year and a half ago I was angry with you, but I’d missed you, too. I never hated you until-“ She stopped, ostensibly annoyed at herself for saying so much.

“Until?” Buffy prompted.

“You don’t know what it was like!” Willow exploded. “You don’t know what happened.” She shook her head. “I’ve been doing magic since Miss Calendar died.”

“I remember,” Buffy said evenly, remembering the light exploding from Angel’s body as his soul was restored.

“I was crappy at it, okay?” Willow shook her head. “I botched up nearly every spell I tried. I had lots of power, but no control. Everything I tried backfired.” She looked down. “I was useless.”

“So what happened?”

Willow still refused to meet Buffy’s eyes. “About two years ago, I met Tara. We started doing magic together… My boyfriend didn’t like it. He was…” She laughed with little amusement. “He was all about weapons and technology, and ignored everything I did that had mystical roots. If it wasn’t explainable by natural means, it wasn’t real, just some crazy delusion of crazy Willow’s. After we broke up, though, he got mixed up with some of his army stuff, and he was forced to work for the Big Bad back then, a kind of Frankenstein named Adam.” Her fingers drummed nervously against the floor beside her. “I used all my powers to make the technology inside of him disappear, to free him from Adam’s control. I had to use dark magic for it, magic Giles didn’t even know about.”

Buffy frowned, remembering what the others had told her. “But your boyfriend, I thought he…”

“He tried to stop Adam,” Willow said blankly. “So Adam killed him.” She glared suddenly at Buffy. “The others don’t know that! If you say anything…”

“No one would blame you,” Buffy told her. “You did the right thing.”

Willow shrugged uncaringly. “Please. As if your opinion matters to me.” She pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “Anyway, that was a revelation. Because the book I’d used for Riley’s chip also had transportation spells. Easy ones. Ones that could have saved him, if I’d only been working with dark magic all along. Dark magic, it’s so much easier to master than the light. There’s no worry about balancing spells or doing what’s right for Gaia. It’s just about harnessing your power and sending it in one direction.” She smirked. “And power is so not my problem.”

Buffy was unimpressed. “So what does any of this have to do with me?”

Willow gave her a look. “I’m getting there,” she said, but with less rancor than she had before. In fact, if Buffy squinted, she could almost see a hint of red in her once best friend’s hair. “The thing is with dark magic, though, is that it’s much harder to summon up than white magic. Once you’ve got it, it’s simple to use. But to reach the kind of level where you can do anything, you need something really dark spurring your power. I struggled with it for a while, trying to find something that could unleash my power properly. And then Glory hurt Tara.”

“Oh, god,” Buffy breathed. She was finally starting to understand.

“Hatred,” Willow confirmed. “That was what I was missing. Intense, seething hatred. And Glory…well, she was easy to hate.” She smiled at the memory. “I managed to injure her, more than Faith ever had. I was finally strong, stronger than Spike, stronger than Faith, stronger than Giles. Giles…he tried to stop me, to rebuke me. But they needed me to fight Glory, to take her down, and even he couldn’t deprive the world of a savior just because he was too worried about corrupted little Willow.”

She turned to really look at Buffy for the first time. “And that’s where you came in. Once Glory was dead, my magic receded. Nothing was behind it. Giles and Tara were relieved, but I was terrified. How was I supposed to bring Faith back without my magic? But then, one day at the Magic Box, everything changed. Giles was scheduled for a Council-sponsored trip, I’d known that for a while. But when I saw where, and why…”

“You found someone new to hate?” Buffy suggested.

“I focused all my anger and hatred at you, you, who dared return after all these years, as if you could just _replace_ my best friend! I let the hatred fester and grow. And when you came home, it was even easier to make it worse. I had my magic back, and I was as strong as ever.” She closed her eyes, savoring the memory. “I wouldn’t be weak. I could protect my friends and Tara.”

“And yet…” Buffy paused, waiting until Willow’s unblinking gaze was focused on her. “At this rate, you won’t have anyone left to protect. Not if you keep pushing them away.”

“It’s none of your business,” Willow said, cold again.

“Isn’t it?” Buffy considered. “See, right now you’re supposed to be fighting with the good guys. But your method is flawed.” She gestured vaguely at the witch. “You think that you’re using your hatred to control your magic. But really, it’s controlling you.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” Willow said sarcastically.

Buffy held up a hand. “Hear me out.” Willow was silent, her face set. “Originally, you had this magic to help people. That’s all you wanted. But now, your whole life revolves around the magic. It’s not just a tool anymore. You lost Tara because of it. You’re losing other people because of your hatred for me. Is that what you wanted?”

“I want power,” Willow said quietly. “But Tara…she’s more important than power. Or anything else.”

“Then give it up,” Buffy urged. “Give up the dark magic before it consumes you.”

“It’s not that easy.” Willow tucked a reddish-black lock of hair behind her ear. “I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s like breathing for me.”

Buffy bit her lip. “Then maybe you should try cutting off the source of the darkness.”

Willow snorted. “Is this your way of asking me to be your friend?”

“Kind of,” Buffy admitted. “Is it working?”

Willow shrugged. “If it means Tara will come back? Let’s just… try being civil first, okay?”

Buffy grinned. “It’s a deal.” She extended a hand. “And if I haven’t said it before, I am so sorry for abandoning you and Sunnydale.”

Willow smiled tentatively, taking her hand, and then the room was fading around them and they were back in the back room of the lodge, their hands still clasped together.

“About time!” Anya hissed. “The ceremony’s going to start any second! Get to the main room!”

\--

Faith raised her eyebrows at the sight of Willow and Buffy standing together with no missing limbs or visible bruises. _Wow. Guess miracles do happen._

Beside her, Angel tried even harder to fade into the background. She rolled her eyes at him. Really, he was so mixed up right now, not knowing where he belonged or what to do with himself. But she knew how to appreciate a challenge, especially one as tall, dark and handsome as this one, and repenting vampires were her specialty. Okay, Spike never really _repented_, per se. He did good now, but never regretted the past. And yet, he’d never seemed quite as dark as the man at her right. 

Plus, if she was going to forgive Buffy and Spike, she might as well find something better first.

“You gonna keep doing that the whole time?” she wondered.

“You don’t understand,” Angel tried to explain. “Xander Harris really doesn’t like me. I don’t think he’d want me at his wedding.”

“He doesn’t like his dad much, either, but there he is, hitting on Tara,” Faith observed.

“Huh.” Angel eyed the man. “I’m pretty sure that that girl’s gay.”

Faith snorted in amusement. “You could say that. The only guy she’s ever even kissed is Spike. And that was the Night We Shall Never Speak of Again. It was a whole erotic spiritgasm thing.” She grinned at the thought. 

“What do you see in him?” Angel asked morosely. “I don’t get it. They all hated _me_. And he’s so…”

“Fun?” Faith suggested. “Loyal? Sexy?” She smirked at Angel’s expression. “Come on, don’t tell me you two boys never got it on. All those years travelling together, you must’ve gotten curious.”

Angel’s forehead creased in worry. “Look at that.”

Faith followed his gaze to where Xander was leaving one of the side rooms with an unfamiliar old man, looking dazed. “Weird.”

“No, _that_,” Angel nodded to where Tara and Mr. Harris had been walking. Mrs. Harris had interrupted them, and they were gesturing vigorously. “They’re going to cause a scene,” he warned Faith.

She stepped forward to do something, but it was too late. Mrs. Harris flung a large drink into her husband’s face, silencing the other guests and drawing more onlookers.

“Bitsch!” Mr. Harris slurred, tottering a little as he spoke. Clearly, he’d been drinking a bit too much. Big surprise there. “Y’just, y’just alwaysh ‘ave to ruin my fun, don’t shyou?”

“You’re drunk,” Mrs. Harris said disgustedly.

“Yesh, well, I’mma married to you!” He snickered. A few of the uncles murmured in agreement. The demons looked on with distaste. Faith didn’t blame them. “Hey! What r’you doing?” Mr. Harris demanded. Spike had stepped between the bickering couple.

“Sorry, mate, but this is going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you,” the vampire said dryly. He drew back his fist and slammed it into Mr. Harris’s skull, then grabbed his head in agony. Buffy ran to support him before he fell, a look of concern on her face.

He choked back the pain to lean heavily on Buffy’s arm and smile weakly at Mrs. Harris. “My apologies, but I won’t let him destroy your son’s wedding. He wouldn’t be the first drunk to try, and I’m not going to let anyone succeed at it.”

Mrs. Harris studied Spike for a moment. “You’re that boy who stayed in the basement with Xander, right?” He ducked his head in acquiescence. She nodded, giving him a real smile. “Thank you. You’re a good friend to my son.”

“That’s why we like him,” Faith murmured, watching him give Xander’s mother a charming smile and turning to Buffy, gesturing at Mr. Harris’s prone body. Angel watched thoughtfully.

As the superpowered blondes lugged the man onto a couch together, Faith hurried over to Xander. “You okay?”

“I can’t do this,” he said quietly.

“Do what?” Faith glanced back toward Angel. He was back where she’d left him, watching Buffy and Spike laugh together with almost somber scrutiny. 

“This.” He gestured around helplessly. “Everything.”

“Whoa.” She held up a hand. “You’re not talking about what I think you are, are you?”

“Look at me.” He met her eyes, serious and broken all at once. “Look at _him_!” He pointed to his father. “That’s what I’m going to become, Faith. The kind of guy who hurts…hurts Anya. Oh, god. I can’t hurt Anya.”

Faith stared at him. “This is so not my job,” she said finally. What was taking Spike so long? He should be calming the groom, not Bad-With-Words Faith! But she had no choice but to speak. Xander looked like he was seconds away from doing a runner, and his parents’ argument had only exacerbated his despair. “But if you ever became like that… well, Spike would sock you, too. And so would I, you know.” He gave her a weak smile. “You’re not your dad, and you never will be, Xan. You’re the selfless one, the one who cares, and there’s nothing you care more about than Anya. Do you love her?”

“Of course I do!” He looked aghast that she’d even had to ask.

Faith gave him a shove. “Then don’t you dare do this to her.” She smirked, suddenly uncomfortable with the seriousness of the situation. “Hey, I’ve known that you were a good guy since the night I took your virginity. Go prove me right.”

He nearly choked. “God, Faith, please tell me that you’re not doing that as your toast.” 

She gave him a mock-innocent look. “Who, me?”

“I have to…I have to go to her. She’s going to be furious that I saw her before the reception, but…” He shrugged helplessly. “You know?”

“Yeah.” She flashed him a smile. “Go to Anya.”

He planted a grateful kiss on her surprised lips before he took off in search of his bride. She watched him go, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. In a way, she envied Anya, and the way that she’d found love, while Faith wasted her years away on meaningless sex with Spike. They’d had fun, but never love, not even close. Sometimes over the years, when Spike had been in mortal peril and she’d been worried sick about him, she’d wondered if they’d been in love and just never realized it. But now she looked over at him as he chatted with D’Hoffryn, his arm gently wrapped around Buffy’s waist and her eyes locked on him instead of the other demon, and she knew that they were in love, just as surely as she knew that she and Spike never had been. 

Angel came to her then, gazing down at her with eyes that nearly understood. “You’re a good friend,” he said softly.

“I am,” she admitted, a bit startled when he bent to kiss her on the cheek. For all her flirting, she hadn’t thought that he’d see her as anything but a distraction from Buffy. Just like she’d always been, despite how long she’d been slayer alone. She was always Buffy’s replacement.

Almost unconsciously, though, she turned her face slightly and his lips met hers. To her surprise and relief, instead of recoiling, Angel remained there, the tentative kiss becoming something gentle and comforting for them both. It was the sort of first kiss that a teenager should have, the kind that spoke of affection and maybe a little something more, far different from the random fuck on a street that had been Faith’s first everything.

And as they finally pulled apart and stared at each other with uncertainty, Faith wondered if she could learn to love Angel.

\--

Xander and Anya had exchanged vows, derailed only by a nasty-looking creature that had arrived, intending to stop the wedding. Willow had almost pulverized it before she’d stepped back and asked a delighted Tara to take care of it, letting the magic rest with a shy smile in Buffy’s direction. “Told you,” Anya had whispered in Buffy’s ear as Xander had escorted her to the dance floor. “Couldn’t dye Willow’s color.”

Now, Xander and Anya spun around together blissfully, their happiness permeating the spirits of nearly everyone present. Even the newly awakened Mr. Harris watched silently, tossing baleful glares at Spike from time to time. Tara had even consented to dance with Willow once, though now both watched the dancing from the side quietly, occasionally shooting each other furtive glances. Even Dawn had found a date, and Buffy was amused at her own relief that he was from Anya’s demon friends and not Xander’s family. The latter really were a vile bunch. 

Faith and Angel had disappeared to the front lobby a while back, and last Buffy had checked, they were speaking earnestly on one of the couches. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on there, or how broody Angel and brazen Faith were actually getting along, but she took it as the gift it was, giving both slayers what they really wanted.

As for Buffy herself, well, she was in a little heaven of her own, swaying in Spike’s arms, listening to him as he alternated between murmuring sweet nothings in her ears and poking fun at the mismatched dancing couples. He never did stop talking, but she loved him all the more for it.

And when she finally leaned forward to whisper “I love you” into his ear, it seemed perfectly natural.


	23. Chapter 23

“So how are Anya and Xander?” Buffy asked Spike when they left for patrol one night.

Spike shrugged. “Dunno. They’re on their honeymoon. Why would they be talking to me?”

Buffy gave him a look. “Please. As if I don’t hear you sneaking upstairs to call him ten times a day.”

“Well, there’s bloody awful service underground!” Spike protested. He sighed. “Alright, pet. You win. I _might_ have spoken to him once or twice since the wedding. But only to check in on Anya! Make sure he’s treating her right!”

“You miss him!” Buffy accused gleefully.

“Do not!” He made a wild grab for her, and she took off through the graveyard, laughing, leaping over tombstones and weaving through trees, chanting, “You _love_ him, you _love_ him…”

Spike caught her with a flying tackle, sending them both to the grassy ground, Spike on top of her. “I love _you_,” he corrected, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Unsatisfied with just that, she wriggled a bit to speed things…up…and deepened the kiss. Tongues warred, hands roved, legs shifted…

“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?” asked an amused voice from above them. Faith leaned against a nearby tree, her arms crossed and only the barest hint of jealousy in her expression. 

Still, Buffy didn’t want to push her luck. Things had been calmer since the day of the wedding, but she was also careful not to rub in her relationship with Spike. It had been bad enough after that first embarrassing night after the wedding when she’d forgotten about vamp hearing (and Spike, she was fairly sure, had not) and Angel had interrupted their foreplay to tell her that he was going out, and no, he wouldn’t be back in the morning. Faith said that he’d been staying in the old mansion on Crawford since, but Buffy had only seen him once at Willy’s and he hadn’t seemed willing to talk just yet.

She knew that Faith had taken to hanging out at Willy’s with Angel during the nights she worked, much to Willy’s displeasure, but she didn’t know much more about their relationship. Were they friends? Were they more? Either way, it didn’t seem fair to Faith to be all giddy and flirty with her ex in front of her. 

Reluctantly, she pushed Spike off of her and grinned at Faith. “You’re out patrolling early.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, Dawn’s in a snit because she’s grounded tonight. She got caught shoplifting by the mall cops.”

“She didn’t!” Spike said, horrified.

“I know,” Faith agreed, shaking her head. “I thought you taught her better than that.”

Buffy glanced from slayer to vampire and suddenly had the uneasy sensation that she was the crazy one. “Um…so she’s grounded because she got caught?”

Faith punched her on the arm, laughing. “Relax, B. I don’t encourage it or anything. But if she’s gonna be a borderline klepto, then she’d better as hell do it right. She’s not a slayer or a vampire. She doesn’t get that free pass.” At Buffy’s look, she rolled her eyes and in a mock-angelic tone, announced, “Not that I’d _ever_ use it.”

And maybe Faith would have taken advantage of her slayer status at some point, but Buffy was certain that she wouldn’t now. Not this Faith. “So who’s keeping an eye on her now?”

“Willow.” Faith held out a hand to help Buffy up. “I would have asked Tara, but Dawn likes her way too much to be miserable around her. And we’re going for maximum misery here. Willow’s trying to hack into the nerds’ systems, anyway, so she’s camping out in the house these days.”

“With hacking or magic?” Buffy wondered. 

“Little bit of both.” Faith set the pace, Spike and Buffy trailing after her, their hands brushing against each other with every step. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t want to kill you.” Every time Willow and Buffy had seen each other over the past week, things had been awkward without being forced. Sometimes Willow was hostile and snappish, other times she was nervous and shy as she tackled the dark magic that had consumed her. And Buffy may have been all for Willow getting over the darkness, but there was still the silent relief that the wards were still up against Willow. Who knew how volatile she would get?

“If she touches Buffy…” Spike said darkly, and Buffy squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“She was out of control, and she knows it,” Faith shrugged. “And as long as we can dangle Tara in front of her, she’ll keep on fighting herself.”

“Good.” He was silent then, and Buffy moved a little closer to him as he wrapped an arm around her waist and brushed his lips against her ear.

Faith stopped with a sigh of exasperation. “Really, where the hell are all the demons tonight? It’s not like-“ She stopped abruptly as she turned and saw the cozy scene behind her, an unreadable expression crossing her face. Buffy pulled away from Spike guiltily, but Faith waved a hand. “Don’t bother. I’m just…I’m going to go to Willy’s.”

“It’s your day off,” Spike pointed out, his eyes compassionate but in no way contrite. Buffy knew that he didn’t regret his relationships with either slayer, and he wouldn’t apologize to Faith for being with Buffy.

Faith nodded. “I’ll go see if Angel’s there. Hang out with him for a while.” She smoothed her top down. “You two okay on patrol?”

“Yeah.” Buffy bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

“I was gonna go anyway.” Faith turned toward the west exit to the cemetery. “Just wanted to tell you two that we’re going to have a get-together to welcome Xander and Anya home tomorrow afternoon. You two coming?”

“Before sunset?” Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Trying to kill me?”

“And leave Xander all heartbroken?” Faith retorted, her usual smirk creeping back onto her face. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

\--

But in the end, Buffy saw Faith before the party. Just before noon, Dawn came by with mail for Buffy and news. “Willow’s found out some pretty serious stuff about the nerds. They’ve got bank schematics and maps and stuff, and she thinks that she knows what their next move is gonna be. Faith wants to know if you can come meet her to kick Warren’s ass. I think she just figures that since she had to wake up so early because of this, everyone has to suffer… Buffy?”

But Buffy wasn’t listening, transfixed by the envelope in her hands. “What is it?” Dawn asked curiously. “It looks all official and government-y.”

“My GED results,” she murmured. “I didn’t think I’d get them so soon.” She turned the envelope over in her hands, as if the answers would be written on the outside.

“Go ahead,” Dawn urged. “Open it!”

She slit the envelope’s side with shaking hands, pulling out the official results sheet. Dawn peered over her shoulder at the numbers. “What does it mean?”

A smile broke out across Buffy’s face. “I’m going to college!” she announced, giving Dawn an impulsive hug.

“You passed!” Dawn squealed, and they jumped up and down together in excitement.

“What’s going on?” asked a sleepy voice from the stairs. Spike squinted down at them, perplexed.

The minute he’d reached the ground floor, Buffy jumped onto him, grinning. “I got my GED,” she explained as he staggered back with the force of her leap.

He kissed her soundly in response, and she laughed with pure joy at how perfect everything had become. Neither one of them noticed when Dawn tiptoed out the door, muttering good-naturedly about slayers and vampires and really, was it so hard for them to keep their hands off each other in front of her?

In fact, they didn’t notice anything until almost an hour later, when Spike’s cell phone rang incessantly until Buffy finally snatched it up. “What?”

Faith was on the other line. “We’ve got things to do, remember? Evil trio out to annoy us to death?” 

Spike nibbled at the side of her neck with blunt human teeth, making her gasp as she responded. “I- _uh!_\- I’ll be right- mmm- over!” She pushed Spike away half-heartedly, and he hummed in pleasure and wrapped her even closer into his embrace.

“You do that,” Faith said, again with that strange mix of amusement and annoyance that she always seemed to have around Spike and Buffy these days. Buffy knew that the other slayer had accepted their relationship, but she couldn’t fault her for being unhappy about it. “This is a sunshine-only battle, though, so Spike isn’t invited.”

Spike pouted, and Buffy couldn’t resist drawing his lower lip into her mouth. “Right,” she said quickly, hanging the phone up abruptly to give her another kiss with her man.

It was nearly twenty minutes before she made it to Faith’s house, where the other slayer was waiting impatiently. “What took you? We need to get moving, now!”

And they were off to take care of the last annoyance on Buffy’s list.

\--

“It was hilarious,” Faith told Xander later that day as she devoured an entire bowl of chips on her own. “What’s-his-name was all set to escape after Warren’s jet pack getaway, and he takes off, and then _smash!_ He hits the roof and gets knocked out. A lame last battle for a lame Big Bad.”

“I kind of felt bad for Jonathan,” Buffy interjected. “He was the one who told us how to beat Warren, and they didn’t even give him an escape route.”

“They thought he’d betray them, and he did,” Spike pointed out from the couch. “Doesn’t make him much better than the other two.”

“Mmm, Jonathan,” Anya sighed.

Xander frowned at her. “What?”

She blinked. “What?” 

“Never mind.” He grinned around at everyone. “So, how was the week?”

“Buffy got her GED,” Willow told him, giving Buffy a brief smile. 

“That’s great!” Xander beamed at Buffy. “So you’re going to be in UC Sunnydale next year?”

“Hope so,” Buffy confirmed.

“Oh! And Willow and Tara went on a date!” Dawn announced.

“No, we didn’t,” Willow said quickly.

“I-it wasn’t like that,” Tara agreed, flushing red.

Buffy looked at them curiously. This was the first she’d heard of a date, but she’d barely seen Tara all week, too wrapped up in her relationship with Spike to do much else. “What was it?”

Willow instinctively scowled at her, then caught herself almost immediately and turned it into a smile. It left Buffy vaguely unsettled. “Tara took me to meet a practicing Wiccan she met when she first came to Sunnydale. She’s this woman who’s been doing magic for decades, and she-“ She stopped.

“She gave us guidance,” Tara put in diplomatically, the two witches suddenly very aware of their friends’ eyes on them.

Faith flashed them both a genuine smile. “Good,” she said encouragingly, heading to the corner of the room where Angel was determinedly studying a painting on the wall in an attempt to avoid all socialization. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I don’t belong here,” he said finally. 

Faith smirked knowingly. “Well, then, you’ll fit right in. Because none of us really belong.” She tugged him to the center of the room, forcing him down onto one couch and taking a seat beside him. “Hey, guys, we made it through almost an entire year without an apocalypse! It’s a new record!”

There were murmurs of agreement at that, and Xander raised his glass. “To years of more weddings than apocalypses!”

Faith squinted around. “Yeah, I don’t think any of us can legally get married, Xan. But nice toast!”

“You’re already thinking about marriage?” Spike muttered, so low that only the slayers and the other vampire could hear him. “Trust me, that wanker would never make an honest woman out of you. He’ll make the promises, but he’s a heartbreaker, he is.” He smirked at his sire’s sire. Buffy elbowed him in the ribs.

“We’re not together,” Faith muttered back. “So shut up.” Sure, she and Angel hung out a lot, and she definitely had lusty feelings toward him, but they’d never gotten further than that kiss at the wedding. And she wasn’t going to initiate anything, not when she wasn’t even sure if she was just a consolation prize.

“Oh, come on,” Spike scoffed, not bothering to keep his voice down anymore and attracting confused looks from the other Scoobies. “You can’t tell me that-“ He froze.

“Spike?” Buffy said nervously, glancing up at his suddenly rigid form.

Angel stood, too, his eyes dark and concerned. “Get out of here,” he said quietly. “Now!”

Faith followed his orders instinctively, shoving Dawn toward the kitchen and trying to do the same to Anya, but it was too late.

The door to the house flew open, and Warren stormed into the room, his eyes dark and wild and his hands readying a gun at them. “You think you can just do that to me?” he shouted. “You think I’d let you get away with it? Well, think again!” 

He aimed his gun, first at Faith, then at Buffy, and fired twice.

Xander was behind Buffy and managed to knock her down before the bullet even left the gun, but Angel was far too busy running at Warren to stop Faith’s bullet. It smashed into her arm, and she let out a howl of pain and anger and tore toward him.

Angel hit him first, smashing the boy into the wall in front of the door before the sun hit him and he had to recoil. Warren took one look at Faith, on her way over to him, and Buffy, a step behind Faith, and ran, dropping the gun in his haste. Faith and Angel exchanged relieved glances

“Damn!” Faith grabbed her arm, the pain fully kicking in. “That stings!” 

Angel and Spike both moved to check on it, bumped into each other, and glared. Spike turned his attention back to Buffy. “Alright, pet?”

But she was staring in horror at the other end of the room, where the rest of the Scoobies had been standing during Warren’s attack, where the second bullet had passed over Buffy and Xander’s heads and hit Tara in the back. 

The girl lay prone on the ground, Willow bent over her. “Tara? Tara!” There was nothing. “Oh, god, TARA!”

And very faintly, Spike heard the white witch’s heart stop.


	24. Chapter 24

“Tara, Tara, Tara…” Dawn was sobbing on the floor next to the dead girl. Xander had his arm around her and was rocking her gently. Faith was watching somberly as Angel tried to yank the bullet out of her arms with tweezers that Buffy vaguely remembered bringing him. She couldn’t think of much else. Spike was gaping in horror at the image on the floor, Buffy’s arms wrapped around him from behind. Anya stood silently in the kitchen doorway, clutching something so tightly in her hand that Buffy couldn’t tell what it was. And Willow…Willow was missing.

“Willow,” Buffy said faintly. Most of the others, too frozen with shock, didn’t hear. Only Angel and Faith did, and both turned to look at her grimly.

“She’s not-“ Faith began, but then an ambulance came squealing to a halt outside the house, sirens blaring, and they were all distracted.

“Who…who called for help?” Dawn asked brokenly.

Anya stared at the phone she still held in her hand. “Oh. I did.” She went to hang it up, her eyes still fixed on the body as she backed away to the receiver.

Then paramedics were running inside, bending over Tara and Faith. Faith shook them off. “I’m _fine_,” she snapped, pulling away. “Come on, Buffy. We need to…go take care of that other thing.”

“Right,” Buffy said hastily, peering past the men to stare at Tara. Sweet, innocent Tara without a bad bone in her body and more than enough love for everyone. She didn’t deserve this.

“We’ve got her!” one of the men shouted to the ones by the doorway. “Get the stretcher, we only have a minute or two before her heart fails again!”

_Again?_ Stunned with disbelief, Buffy spun to gape at the body. Tara’s chest was heaving with short breaths as she was revived, and for an instant, her eyes shot open and focused before closing again.

Dawn dissolved into sobs of relief, reaching for the witch. Xander held her back so the men could do their job, gathering Anya into his arms, too. Spike was weeping unabashedly. Buffy wanted to join them, but moments after she shed her first tear, Faith was tapping her shoulder with her unharmed arm. “Come on.”

“We’ve lost her!” She heard the cry but wouldn’t process it, not until the greater threat was taken care of. Instead, she followed the other slayer out the back door. “We can’t let them see me,” Faith reminded her. “They’ll try to hospitalize me, and we don’t have time for that.” She climbed over the fence, crying out when she hit the side of her bad arm midway.

“Did Angel get the bullet out?” Buffy asked, worried at the state of the other slayer. 

Faith shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Even so, Buffy tore a long strip from the bottom of her shirt as they ran and tossed it to her counterpart. “Magic Box or the trio’s lair?” she wondered.

“Seeing as we never found out where they were hiding out…” Faith pointed out. Her eyes widened. “Except Willow does. She found it when she was looking through their files, but we figured that it wasn’t important since we were going to catch them anyway.” She staggered to a halt, breathing heavily from the pain.

“Crap.” Buffy took the cloth from her and wrapped her arm tightly. “Well, maybe she went to the Magic Box first. Gather more powers, or whatever…”

“She doesn’t need anymore to kill Warren,” Faith said grimly. “But she might be looking for something worse than her usual repertoire.”

“This is just getting better and better,” Buffy muttered gloomily, breaking out into a run again. 

But the Magic Box had already been looted by the witch. The door had been magically torn from its hinges, and books were strewn everywhere. Buffy picked one up and started, confused. It was completely blank, the pages an untouched white, as though all the words had been sucked clean from the book. 

“She did this last time, too,” Faith said quietly. “Only to a few books, though. This time…” This time she’d taken them all.

Buffy turned urgently to Faith. “Where was the nerd lair? Can’t you remember anything?”

Faith shook her head. “Dammit!” she raged suddenly, slamming a hand against the table, tearing it to shreds with just the one hit. “She was getting better! She was finally herself again!”

Buffy paced back and forth, thinking hard. “Call Dawnie. See if she can get onto Willow’s computer and find out what she knew. Wait!” A thought occurred to her. “Warren, he’s not going to stick around. He attacked the slayers! If I were him, I’d be halfway out of town by now.”

Faith nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Anya’s car is probably still parked out back. Let’s go.”

“You have the keys?” Buffy asked doubtfully. She couldn’t imagine Anya trusting anything of value to anyone else.

“Buffy.” Faith flashed her a cocky grin. “Does it matter? It’s me.”

\--

Xander, Anya and Dawn had left with the ambulance as Spike watched helplessly from the shade. He shook off the last of his tears and moved back to the living room to pace with impatience.

“Can you stop doing that?” Angel demanded. 

Spike ignored him.

“I said, stop it, boy!” Angel roared, grabbing him and tossing him against the wall. He slid down and sprang up, swinging at Angel wildly. Angel took the hit and jammed his fist into Spike’s chest, leaving him panting and bloody on the ground.

Spike did the only thing he could in this absurd situation, with the closest thing he had to a sister dead and his lover out alone, he unable to help her while she tackled an out-of-control witch. He laughed hysterically, uncontrollably, in a tone just a hair too wild to sound sane.

When he finally paused, Angel leaned against the wall, irritable. “Are you done yet?”

Spike glared at him balefully. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Angel growled. “She’s out there with a bullet in her arm!”

Spike gaped at him. “I’ll be buggered. You really do care about Faith.”

“And Buffy!” Angel clenched a fist. “From what I’ve heard, Willow’s had a vendetta against her since she came back. When she finishes with that bastard-“

“You think I don’t know that?” Spike demanded incredulously. “You think I wouldn’t go kill Willow myself to protect her if I didn’t have this damn chip in my head?”

Instead of responding, Angel studied him thoughtfully.

“What?” Spike snapped, stalking closer to his sire confrontationally. 

“You really do love her,” the other vampire said wonderingly. “This isn’t some rebound thing from Dru. You really mean it.”

Spike scowled. “Well, yeah. Where’ve you been?”

“It’s just…” Angel ran his fingers through his hair uncomfortably. “I guess if it _had_ to be another vampire, at least I know you’ll take care of her,” he conceded grudgingly.

“Thanks ever so,” Spike said sarcastically. He didn’t think he could take this until sunset. _Sun…Angel. Sun…Angel. If I didn’t have Buffy to worry about, I’d probably have killed myself already._

\--

Buffy clenched the steering wheel with both hands, pushing her foot even lower on the accelerator. “Tell me when to go right!”

“Right! Now!” Faith yelled, hanging onto her seat with all her might. “Slow down, Buffy! Where the hell did you learn how to drive?”

“Uh…Now? Don’t worry, I’m a quick study!” Buffy said reassuringly, turning the wheel abruptly. “Whoa! Probably should’ve slowed down on the turn!”

“Give me the wheel!” Faith yelped, trying to grab it with her good hand. Unfortunately, it was also the arm that was further away, and her mad grab was cut short when her twist slammed her injury into the back of the seat. “Damn, damn, damn!”

“Stop moving, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Buffy warned her as they pulled out of Sunnydale, her eyes glued on the bus ahead of them.

“You stop moving, or you’ll kill us both!” Faith retorted. Her eyes bulged as she glanced ahead. “Stop the car, stop the car!”

Buffy slammed on the brakes, sending them both flying and stopping the car inches behind the suddenly halted bus. Both girls unbuckled and raced out of the car to survey the scene ahead of them.

Willow stood in front of the bus, waiting impatiently for her target. Buffy gaped. Her eyes were a dark, empty blackness worse than ever before, and her hair had reverted to its old dark-magic-black. Worst of all, though, were the black veins that bulged from skin so white that it took on a nearly deathly pallor. Those she’d never seen before. It was almost as though the magic had infected her very bloodstream, creating its own vessel in the grieving girl.

“W-Willow?” Faith said shakily. “What happened to you?”

Willow barely glanced at them. “Good, you’re here. Saves me another trip.”

Then Warren was stepping off the bus, a hopeless look on his face. The two slayers charged forward, and Willow froze them in place with a hand. She tilted her head in disapproval, and quick as a blink, she’d grabbed Warren by the throat.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I’ll do anything.”

Her lip curled in disgust.

“Willow!” Buffy shouted. “It’s okay! Ta-“ Her throat suddenly closed up and she couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“Don’t say her name,” Willow hissed, and squeezed Warren’s throat. Electricity sparked, and an eyeball popped out and rolled on the ground. 

“Of course!” Faith muttered from beside Buffy. “Robot Boy!”

Buffy wrinkled her brow. “Was he always a robot? Shouldn’t we have known this?”

Faith rolled her eyes, turning back to Willow. “Will, it’s okay! Tara might be okay!”

Willow glanced away from them dismissively. “I’ve got a frozen slayer that says otherwise.”

For the first time, Buffy realized that she was in the grasp of Willow’s magic, and a cold dread settled over her. Tara had said that the wards would work…for as long as the caster was alive. There was no hospital for her, no second chance at resurrection or a return from heaven for the gentle Wiccan. “Oh my god, Tara,” she whispered.

A sharp wind blasted at her face, sending shards of dust and glass across her cheek to cut bloody slices down her face and neck. “I told you not to say her name!” Willow snapped, and then she disappeared in a whirl of energy.

Faith and Buffy stared at each other worriedly. Finally, Faith cracked a bleak smile. “My turn to push the bare midriff look,” she decided, yanking a strip of cloth from her shirt to wrap it around Buffy’s neck. She dabbed at the blood on her face gently. “I won’t take it all off. Leave it as a present for your boyfriend.” Buffy stared at her. She shrugged. “What? You don’t think Spike’s favorite time of month wasn’t-“

“Okay.” Buffy held up a hand. “Really, that’s enough.”

Faith smirked. “Aren’t you uptight? Come on,” she said suddenly. “Maybe Anya can do a locator spell for us.” She slid into the driver’s seat before Buffy could get there.

“No.” Buffy scowled at her. “Hospital first. You’ve got a bullet in your arm!”

“Forgot.” She started the car, making a wild u-turn with her right arm. “No, we’re going to the house. We need Anya, and something of Willow’s. It’s just a bullet, I can handle it.”

_Tara couldn’t,_ Buffy thought blankly, worry for her sister slayer making her sick to her stomach. _I can’t lose another friend._

“Look.” Faith rolled up her bloody sleeve. “The wound’s already closing. Hurts like hell, but I’m not going to bleed to death.”

“Let’s just go,” Buffy ground out, worry making her irritable. Hopefully, Angel would finally be able to pull out the bullet.

\--

Angel drummed his fingers against his knee, glaring at his errant childe’s newest attempt to drive him up the wall. Every five seconds, Spike would yank open the curtains to see if the sun was down yet, and then he’d stand, bathed in the setting sun, until he was smoking from its harmful rays. Then he’d jump back, wait a few seconds, and start again.

Angel was tempted to beat on the other vampire again, but the last time he’d tried that, Spike had started humming sea shanties. And that was far more irritating. And a bit less entertaining.

He didn’t blame Spike, though, not for his obvious worry over Buffy. He was concerned, too. Because he suspected that, given the choice between losing her life or killing a human, Buffy might just choose death. Not that he really knew her anymore.

He wasn’t sure what had happened. Had it only been the passage of time, or had it been Spike’s influence? Either way, Buffy had been distant from him from the start, and it hadn’t taken him long to deduce that she didn’t want him anymore. It had taken a bit more time for him to realize that he didn’t want her anymore, either. Because she wasn’t the playful teenager he’d loved, not anymore. Angelus, his death, and her self-imposed exile had seen to that. This Buffy was mature, composed, and worlds away from him. He didn’t know what she saw in Spike, but he did know that she had made the right decision. Because this Buffy really did make decisions for herself, and whatever she decided she _made_ right.

And then there was Faith. He sighed deeply. He hadn’t known what this had become, hadn’t known if it was just some rebound thing from spending so much time in hell, but Faith…he’d only known her for a week, and already, he’d felt a deep kinship with the girl. She knew the darkness that Buffy and hell, even Spike, who had been full of light and life even as he’d murdered thousands, had never really touched, and she lived on that edge with him. He knew that she’d killed before and that she’d been tempted to do it again. He knew that she loved hunting down demons far more than was healthy, even for a slayer. They both lived in darkness, even as they fought for light, and for meeting her, more than anything else, he was glad that he’d returned to Sunnydale.

And then there was that miserable little creature, waving a gun at the one thing had been making his unlife bearable lately, and he’d wanted to kill that slime, regardless of the human heart pumping within him. He’d been struck with the terror of losing her, his first true friend in centuries, and he’d known then that whatever he felt for her was real, even in its infant stages. 

“Spike!” Buffy’s cry jolted him back to the present, and his head snapped up to look for Faith.

“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy,” Spike was murmuring, kissing at the bloody cuts that marred her face. “Love you so much…”

“Love you too. More than anything…” She burrowed her head into his neck, tears spilling from her eyes. “Tara’s gone,” she sobbed, and then Spike was weeping too, and Angel couldn’t bear to break up their moment to inquire about Faith, not yet.

And then he didn’t have to, and she was walking through the doorway with her blood-soaked shirt and a worried frown on her face, and he thought “what the hell?” and kissed her breathless.

\--

Xander wrapped his arms around Anya and Dawn for what seemed like the millionth time that night and let them cry away their sorrows. He hoped that Buffy and Faith, at least, had caught up to Willow and saved her from herself. The night had had enough tragedy. _Tara…oh, Tara, forever lost…_

He tightened his grip on his girls. He had to be strong. For all of them, he had to be strong.


	25. Chapter 25

“Damn magic,” Spike was muttering as he reluctantly put together the locator spell. “Always a disaster.”

“Gee, and you’re telling us this now?” Buffy asked, grinning half-heartedly. “You couldn’t have mentioned it back when Willow started with the insanity?”

“When _did_ she start, anyway?” Angel wondered from where he was carefully cleaning out the wound in Faith’s arm. The bullet had finally been removed, although he’d needed to slice open nearly half of Faith’s arm to get to it.

They all looked at each other musingly. Faith finally nodded. “You’re right. We shouldn’t blame only Willow for this.”

“It’s your fault, you wanker,” Spike said, deadpan, to the other vampire.

“What?”

“Guys. Can we focus?” Buffy stood up. “Do we need anything else for this spell?”

“Yeah.” Faith nodded to the kitchen. “Willow uses this sand stuff and spreads it out over the map. We have some in the kitchen drawer.”

Buffy turned to retrieve it when the front door opened and a grim Xander and Dawn walked in. 

“Guys?” Buffy asked shakily. There had still been a little part of her that had been desperately clinging to the belief that Tara was still there, somehow, clinging to life. “Any news?”

Xander shook his head as Dawn’s face crumpled. “It’s bad,” he said quietly.

“Locator spell. Now.” Spike turned back to his work abruptly, but Buffy could see the devastated look on his face from across the room. She nodded and headed back into the kitchen, sifting through a drawer full of Ziploc bags with various labels on them. _Sage…Sunshine Spell…Will Be Done…Demon Hula Dance…wait. Demon Hula Dance?_

“Never mind.” Faith’s voice was quiet, but with a fear that temporarily immobilized Buffy. Faith didn’t do fear. Not like that.

“W-Why not?” 

“Because I’m right here, you idiot,” Willow drawled from somewhere just behind Buffy. Instinctively, her hand shot out to strike the witch, but Willow had some sort of shield up and her wrist was forcibly bent backward before she got close.

With one hand, Willow flung Buffy back into the living room with the others. “There’s just more space here. I hope you don’t mind,” she said mockingly.

“Willow, this isn’t the way!” Buffy said desperately. “I know you want to hurt Warren, but killing someone…it’ll destroy you, no matter how angry you are!”

“Please.” Willow rolled her eyes. “Warren’s dead. And so are his creepy friends.”

“You’re calling _them_ creepy?” Faith muttered, and Willow’s eyes glittered.

“Oh, Faithie, this is going to be such fun.” She clapped her hands together. “See, you know what I figured out? This isn’t just about the nerds. This is about the people who let Tara die.”

“Will-“ Xander tried.

She silenced him with a lazy flick of a finger. “You don’t talk, Xander Harris. Don’t think I don’t remember who that bullet should have hit, and why it didn’t.” Her cold eyes moved back to Buffy. “So I thought about it. Who should be next to suffer? And there’s one obvious answer.”

Buffy glared at the witch. “Bring it on. But you know, do you think you’re the only one who’s mourning? The only one who-“

“You killed her, you bitch!” Willow snapped. “And I’m not even talking about the way you’ve destroyed everything since you got here. You’re why I couldn’t move her in time!” 

“Oh. Oh, no,” Spike was murmuring, staring at the witch in horror.

“I told you!” she hissed. “I could’ve saved Riley if I’d known enough. And this time, I could have just teleported Tara away, too! I knew how! But you-“ She took a step forward. Buffy couldn’t step back, too frozen in horror and self-loathing at the sudden realization to budge. “You took the magic away! You let her die!” The others, too, were unable to move, looking from Buffy to Willow with confusion and dawning understanding.

“Both of us,” Spike said quietly. “Blame me, too.”

“I do,” Willow said coldly. “And once I avenge Tara, you’ll be next. And the rest of you! You let that bitch come in here, gave her all the freedom she had to _make changes_, turn Tara and Faith and all of you against me… Oh, everyone’s going to suffer.” She turned back to Buffy. “But don’t worry. Only one more person is going to die tonight.”

“Get Dawn out of here,” Faith muttered to Xander, too low for Willow to hear normally. 

But normal really wasn’t in the equation anymore. Willow’s eyes darkened. “I said _everyone_!” she snapped, and the front door slammed closed on its own. “But first you.”

And Buffy was suddenly suspended in midair in a frenetic whirlwind of energy that slashed at her and tore at her clothes, her hair, her skin… “Don’t worry,” Willow said calmly in a voice that came through to her mind clearly, despite the raging sounds around her. “This isn’t the end yet. First, you’re going to suffer.”

Through the distorted air, Buffy caught sight of Spike launching himself at Willow, Faith right behind him. She batted them away like they were flies. “I’m not done,” she growled.

“No!” The desperate cry came from Xander as he tackled Willow from behind, hanging on to her with all his might as she tried to shrug him off. “Stop! Willow, listen to me!” But what he said next was swallowed up by a howl from Spike as he jumped at the maelstrom that encased Buffy, tugging at her arm with all his might until he, too, was trapped within it, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Then Xander moved, still holding on to Willow, to stand between her outstretched hand and the whirlwind, taking all the energy that was being thrown at Spike and Buffy. He flew backward as the two blondes safely landed on the ground in a bloody mess, just in time for Spike to catch Xander before he smashed into the wall behind them.

“Get your boyfriend out of here, vampire,” Willow said through clenched teeth. “I’m not going to kill you two.”

Faith stepped forward, Angel hot on her heels. “Well, you’re gonna have to kill all of us if you want to hurt Buffy,” she announced, her arms folded. 

“Yeah!” Dawn hurried to help them stand in front of Buffy, and even Spike and Xander staggered forward to form the defensive line.

Willow’s lip curled. “Touching, really. But you forget-“ And then she was between them and Buffy, and had gathered up the slayer and disappeared, her last words hanging in the air. “-I don’t have any barriers!”

\--

Anya sighed with relief as she finished the last of the hospital’s paperwork. With Willow wreaking havoc who knew where, she really didn’t want to be alone without her husband. Was he in danger? Who knew how far Willow might go?

As if it were in touch with her thoughts, her phone rang and she answered it hurriedly. “Xander! Are you- she _what?_ Oh, no. But Buffy- Okay. Okay. I’m on my way.”

She left as quickly as she could, considering, and was eminently grateful that the hospital was only a few blocks from Faith’s place. It might take her longer than usual to get there, but at least she didn’t need to take a bus.

\--

Buffy looked around worriedly. “Where…where’d you take me?” _Can they find me here?_ It was dark and dank and did seem oddly familiar, and she was praying that they hadn’t left Sunnydale completely. They’d been moving from place to place for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes as Willow had teleported everywhere from Revello Drive to the mansion on Crawford to an empty field to the Bronze, ostensibly trying to decide on a location. And now, it looked like she’d finally made her decision, but the dark energies in the room around them only served to concern Buffy even more.

Willow smirked. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember this place.” She muttered a spell and tendrils sprang out of the wall to chain Buffy against it. “We had so much fun here, back in the day. Classes and the library and oh? Did I not mention the Hellmouth?”

“The Hellmouth…” Buffy repeated weakly.

“Oh, yes.” Willow tapped a carved seal on the floor with her toe. “See, this is the Seal of Danzalthar, portal through which evil enters the world. I’ve done some research on it, and it’s pretty simple.” She held up a finger, counting off the steps. “First, I spill enough blood of yours on it to open the seal. Slayer blood. Shouldn’t take long. Then, I throw you inside.” She smiled smugly. “You know what’s down there? Armies and armies of vicious, disgusting vampires. The original kind, not our cute little human half-breeds. And they’re much harder to kill.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “And I bet you can’t sleep with all of them before one bites your head off. Not unless you’re lickety-split, really quick.” 

“Willow…” Buffy croaked. She didn’t know what kept her reasoning with the unreasonable. Some deep-rooted self-preservation instinct, perhaps? The possibility of seeing Spike again? The fact that Tara would have been so hurt if she’d known that Willow had killed Buffy?

Willow wasn’t impressed. “Shut up. I’m not done yet. You know how I’m going to make you bleed?” She pulled something out of her pocket. Buffy gaped. It was a tiny bullet. “So small, you know. Hard to believe that something this miniscule could destroy someone who was the world to me, you know? Hard to believe that it couldn’t have gotten rid of that annoyingly _good_ slayer who went around trying to tell me what to do instead. Give up the magics! Buffy, I _am_ the magics.”

“Don’t-“

Willow ignored her. “Now, let’s see how we’re going to do this.” She left the bullet hovering in midair. “I remember it perfectly, you know. The happy little family scene, then Warren runs in…“

A ghostly, Warren-like apparition came into being in front of them. “You think you can just do that to me?” it shouted. Willow mouthed the words as they came from the specter. “You think I’d let you get away with it? Well, think again!” 

“And…” she squinted as she settled the real bullet in front of the apparition of the gun. “Right there.” She stretched out a hand to pull Buffy across the room to her spot in the illusion, a smoky Xander appearing right behind her. “It’s incorporeal, you know.” she said conversationally. “It won’t be able to save you from this bullet.”  
_  
Spike…Faith…Xander…Anya…Dawn…I love you all. Please, just let it be quick.  
_  
“And Tara, she was right here.” Willow frowned at the Tara-ghost. “No, that’s not right.”

“It really isn’t,” Tara said, but it wasn’t the Tara from Willow’s twisted replay. This Tara was at the other end of the room, seated in a wheelchair and looking weak and pale but bright-eyed as she was pushed in by Anya, followed by the rest of the Scoobies.

Willow froze. “Tara? No.” Her eyes darkened. “You’re not real! You’re gone!”

“I was,” the white witch said quietly. “But now I’m not. The bullet…it severed my spine. I shouldn’t even be out of the hospital yet. I might never walk again.”

“No, no, no!” Willow shook her head violently. “It’s a trick! Stop it!” Tears were flowing freely down her face. “Stop it!”

Silently, Anya wheeled her out to where Willow was standing, and Tara reached out to draw Willow into an awkward embrace. “This isn’t you, Willow,” she murmured. “You’ve gone so wrong…this isn’t you.”

Willow collapsed under her ex-lover’s calming words, falling limply to the floor while clutching Tara’s hand. “It’s not real! None of it’s real!” she sobbed. “Oh, it can’t be real!”

Buffy closed her eyes finally, allowing herself to collapse, too. Strong, cool hands caught her before she hit the ground, and she opened her eyes again to gaze into Spike’s loving eyes.

Willow turned to stare at her as the darkness finally receded, seeping out of her to the seal below. “Oh, god, Buffy! Buffy, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t! I’m so sorry!” And then she was curled into herself at Tara’s feet, weeping uncontrollably.

Tara reached out to her to lay a hand on her head, and pure white magic glowed through her as it worked its way through her to her damaged love. Willow cried, and the magic healed, and the magic flowed from the two of them together, white from one, black from the other, until the light finally cleansed the dark and the blackness faded away.


	27. Epilogue

“I was beyond out of control,” Willow said quietly. “The power, it was all about controlling people and my own security. My connections to others was what made me too strong.”

Buffy nodded, though she knew Willow couldn’t see it on the other side of the receiver. “For most people, that’s a good thing.”

“Not for me. I can’t…” Willow sighed heavily. “It’s good that I’m doing this. I’m not coming back. Not for a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Buffy murmured. 

“It was never your fault,” Willow assured her. “What I said, I said because I wanted to blame you so desperately. I wanted to hurt you like I was hurting. But you did the right thing.”

Buffy stared blankly at the wall, twisting the phone cord with her finger. “And now, Tara’s in a wheelchair.”

“Warren did that.” Willow was silent for a moment. “You protected her. From me. And she needed that, and a loyal friend, and I just…I… thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Buffy said, and meant it. “Do you want to talk to her? Or Faith or Xander?”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Willow said, her voice suddenly strained. “I need to…I need to stay away for a while. Break free of the dependence. I spoke to Giles about it, and he thinks it’s a good idea, too.”

“Send him my love,” Buffy said wistfully before hanging up the phone. In a way, she envied Willow, studying in England with Giles as her guide.   
_  
Then again…  
_  
“How’s she doing?” Tara asked worriedly, wheeling into the kitchen. 

“Better.” Buffy murmured. “She sounds like she’s healing, but it’s going to be a long process.”

“As long as she gets the help she needs,” Tara agreed. She smiled. “But you two are getting along! That’s…it’s good for her to have a friend right now. Even if it is one she tried to torture to death.”

“We have a special relationship,” Buffy grinned, heading back into the dining room, where everyone else was assembled for a second attempt at the welcome home party for the newlyweds.

Faith raised a glass. “C’mon, B! We’re doing toasts!”

“This isn’t just an excuse to get me drunk, is it?” she asked suspiciously, looking from her lover’s innocent expression to her sister slayer’s smirk to Angel’s exasperated face. 

Faith gave her a mocking grin. “I’ve heard interesting things about Drunk Buffy. Who am I to pass up on that?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Please. Even _I_ can hold my liquor, Buffy. It’s pretty lame if you can’t.”

“You are not drinking!” Spike sputtered, pulling her glass away from her and sniffing it.

Dawn gave him a look. “Relax, it’s just iced tea. You didn’t think I’d actually try drinking when you’re around, did you? You’d get all mad and somehow convince Faith to ground me. Again.”

“Nah, I’m all for you holding your liquor,” Faith objected. “I know you’re going to be drinking whenever you can get it past me, so you may as well be able to operate while drunk. That’s the key, you know?”

“So I can have some?” Dawn asked eagerly, reaching for the beer. 

There was a resounding “No!” from everyone else present.

“A toast,” Xander said, raising his glass. “To another year without an apocalypse.”

“I don’t know,” Anya commented, frowning. “That seal of Willow’s seemed about ready to pop open. And wasn’t there supposed to be an army of ubervamps down there?”

“We’re looking on the bright side, Anya,” Spike reminded her. “I’m with Harris on this.” 

Faith smirked, raising her glass. “A toast,” she started. “To having a boyfriend who’s _not_ in love with Xander.”

“Okay, that’s it!” Spike stood up. “I am _not_ in love with him! He’s in love with me! There’s a bloody distinction, people!”

Buffy wagged a finger at him. “Careful, you’re hurting poor Xander’s feelings.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Anya said, taking a long drink from her glass. “Xander’s very lovable. And a great kisser. And sometimes, he’ll agree to wear a leather collar, if I call him-”

“Okay!” Xander held up a hand. “As fascinating as Spike’s crush on me is, let’s not discuss this-“

“Give him a kiss, Xander,” Faith said, gulping down the last of her drink. 

“What? No!” Spike protested. “I’m not some kind of poofter! I don’t kiss-“

“Never stopped you before,” Angel said, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. They all gaped at him.

“I knew it!” Faith slammed a hand on the table. “You so owe me twenty bucks, Buffy!”

“Shh…not now!” Buffy waved away the other slayer, her eyes glued on the two males.

“Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!” Dawn chanted, watching the scene with fascination.

Xander glanced at Buffy. She raised her eyebrows. “Fine,” he muttered, and gave Spike a quick peck on the lips while everyone cheered them on.

“What, that’s it?” Spike grumbled, but under the table, his hand had crept up Buffy’s skirt and was slowly moving aside her underwear.

She inhaled sharply. “Are you alright?” Tara asked, concerned.

“She’s fine,” Faith said knowingly, raising her glass again. “Who’s our next toast?”

“Oh, me!” Anya said gleefully. “To raising a family with my husband!”

Xander dropped his glass, suddenly very pale. “Oh, god. You’re kidding, right?”

“Well, not exactly,” Anya said matter-of-factly. “I’m not pregnant, but I do expect that we should start building a family within the year. I want a boy and a girl, and I’m not getting any younger, you know.” Xander gulped.

Buffy choked as Spike slid a finger into her.

Xander glanced at her. “Buffy?”

“Moving on, people,” Faith said loudly, kicking Angel under the table when he suddenly caught scent of what was going on and let out a loud growl. “Spike, how about a toast?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, slipping another finger inside Buffy. With the other, he raised his glass. “To family.”

“To family,” they echoed, except Buffy, who was hanging on to the table for her dear life before she let anything else slip.

As the others drank, she let out a long, strangled moan that she barely muffled with her hands as she came.

Dawn snorted, and everyone looked over to her. “What?” she asked innocently. “Am I supposed to pretend I don’t know that Spike isn’t doing nasty stuff to Buffy under the table?”

Buffy flushed bright red. Spike choked on his drink. “Nibblet!”

“That’s not fair,” Anya complained, turning to Xander. “Why don’t you ever get me off under the table?”

Buffy bit her lip. “Can I crawl into a hole and die now?” she wondered shakily, letting Spike pry one of her hands from the table to guide it to his jeans.

Faith shook her head and laughed. “I’m going to make another toast,” she announced, giving Buffy a playful nudge as Spike let out his own gasp. “To old friends returned to us,” she offered, giving Angel a beaming smile and Buffy a mocking smirk.

There was a _clink_ as they all touched glasses and drank.

Buffy took a long sip, closing her eyes in contentment.

_…There’s nowhere I’d rather be._


End file.
